Between Coffee and Beer
by CherrybombLuv
Summary: "Sometimes misspelling a word can make all the difference. What happens when coffee shop owner Bella receives an email meant for someone else over 2000 miles away?"
1. Chapter 1: Saturday, Day One

**A/N: So, I tried to be stern with myself and NOT post anything new until I'm at least nearly done with MBH but I couldn't help myself! I started this a while ago and I'm really loving it. It's an idea I've had for a while and kinda reminds me of how I met my real life love. **

**In a nutshell, my bf (of five years now) found my MySpace (back in the day! Lol) and my status said that I was lonely cuz my current jerk of a bf had just broken up with me. He sent me a message, asking if he could cheer me up, we had similar friends and were from the same town (at the time I was living farther north) and BOOM! Within a week, I was back home and with him. So, technically we met online. Never thought I'd say that... I've always had more friends online than off so I guess it made sense.**

**Anyways, enough of my talking. I hope you enjoy my newest creation! And, as always, I don't own anything but my imagination. **

* * *

Chapter 1: Saturday, Day One

"Mike, are you kidding me!"

I scramble out of my office and towards the smoking toaster oven. Halfway there, I feel my feet slip out from under me. My hands flail uselessly, trying to stop myself from falling. My fingers latch onto the clear bagel display case but, yet again, the door wasn't closed all the way so instead of holding me upright, the door opens, causing my fingers to slide along the edge and down the rack of pastries.

I fall flat on my ass, a deluge of sesame seeds and bread raining down on me.

"Oh shit, Bella, are you okay?"

Jacob is suddenly behind me, his strong arms gripping me and pulling me back up before I get any more soaked in what turns out to be a puddle of milk on the floor. He looks around in confusion but his eyes quickly light up in comprehension when he spots the growing black cloud. In a single bound, he's over the spill and unplugging the toaster.

"Mike!" I yell again, spinning around and catching him across the room, chatting up some blonde bimbo—again.

"Sorry," I hear him mumble at her before sprinting to the counter. He leans over it, taking in the scene behind the register. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, oh shit," I say sarcastically, putting my hands on my hips. "Care to explain?"

" Well, I was just warming up a bagel-"

"On full power?" Jacob interrupts with a laugh, opening up the door to let some fresh air in, apologizing to a few disgruntled customers as they rush out the door.

"It was on full power?" Mike says with a nervous laugh.

"Alright, so you don't know how to use the toaster oven," I grumble, waving my hand at the mess on the floor. "Do you also not know how to pour milk? Or close the damn pastry door?"

"Well, I just... I mean, there was this-"

"Save it Mike," I snap and shake my head. "Just... clean it up and let Jacob take care of the actual preparing and serving. _You_ can just run the register—just give exact change today. Count it twice if you have to, I don't care."

"Yeah, okay," Mike mumbles, glancing forlornly at the retreating form of blondie as she leaves the coffee shop.

I had never thought running my own coffee shop would be so hard. It's located in the heart of Seattle, surrounded by plenty of office buildings with busy businessmen that need a constant supply of good, strong coffee at their fingertips. Plus, the nearest shop was an overpriced Starbucks who's employees seemed to hate the world.

Maybe hiring Mike was a bad idea... Two weeks here and he still couldn't seem to figure out the difference between decaf and regular coffee.

Never mess with a coffee addict's caffeine.

Without a second glance—even after I hear Mike drop yet another coffee mug on the ground—I rush into my office, trying not to slam the door behind me. I search in the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet where I keep my extra clothes, needing another pair of jeans, but I only come across a few shirts.

"Damn it!" I cry, slamming the drawer shut. Maybe I should just skip out for a bit to change.

Sighing heavily, I throw my soggy apron on the floor and turn to my computer to send out an email to our bagel supplier. Thanks to a certain blue-eyed idiot, we're in need of a fresh supply of bagels. Again.

Making sure not to describe a certain employee with unflattering names, as well as using a ton of inappropriate expletives, I write out the email and figure I'll just surf Facebook for a few minutes. Hopefully one of my online friends is having a worse day than me.

Just as I'm exiting my email, a new one pops up.

**To: cafegirl87**

**From: DoubleEBar**

**Subject: About last night...**

"Last night..." I say in confusion. Last night I had been cuddled up on the couch with the newest episode of Cupcake Wars and a big bowl of popcorn. Not to mention I was asleep by ten.

Yes, I lead a very exciting life.

I consider deleting the email since I have no idea who the person is. But then I hear the sound of more ceramic breaking. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, tell myself Jacob will take care of it, and open them again. With a shrug, I open the email, curiosity and procrastination getting the better of me.

**Dear Jessica,**

**I normally wouldn't stoop to this kind of communication regarding these issues but we're swamped at the bar this weekend and plus... well, you have my phone, I believe.**

**To get straight to business first, while I did enjoy your very unique brand of wine, I don't think that the regular clientele at Double E Bar would appreciate the boldness of the flavor. I do admire your tenacity and persistence to find a kind we would be able to stock but at this time, Emmett and I both agree that while we thank you, we won't be able to take your winery on.**

**Now, I have had a lot of fun getting to know you personally and though I was wary about it at first, your form of entertainment was, to say the least, interesting—or at least what I remember was. Back in my college days, I was known to attend the occasional pub crawl, but bar-hopping was a totally different experience. Same thing with Karaoke. Wow. Please, tell me I didn't sing anything too embarrassing? I'm not holding out too much hope for that considering I woke up with my jeans pockets full of phone numbers—half of which were from men. But speaking of clothing... In the addition of my mobile phone, do you also have my t-shirt? I don't remember taking if off last night but, apparently, I did. And someone wrote, "I'd take the midnight train going anywhere just for you, baby" in permanent ink on my chest. What the bloody hell does that mean?**

**Hope you can get back to me soon. You can call me at the bar or just email me back.**

**Thanks,**

**Edward Masen**

**Owner, Double E Bar**

**Chicago**

I couldn't help but laugh. Sounds like this guy had one fucked up night. And who doesn't know Journey's _Don't Stop_? Doesn't he watch Glee?

Oh wait, he's a guy... Probably not.

I think about deleting the email (again) but realize this guy is needing answers. He lost his phone, his shirt and probably his pride all in one night. Gotta give the guy something.

My fingers hover over the keys before swiftly typing out a reply.

**From: Cafegirl87**

**To: DoubleEBar**

**Subject: Re: About last night...**

**Dear Edward,**

**Sounds like you had quite the experience last night. Sorry to say, you got the wrong email address. I spent my night at home last night and my name is not Jessica. I also do not have your cell phone or your t-shirt. **

**I do, however, know about what was written on your, uh... body. It's a line from a song by Journey called "Don't Stop". It's a rocking song; you should look it up. I have to admit, I'm curious who wrote the note for you. If it's a guy, unless you swing that way... well, I hope you don't come across him again because it sounds like he's really into you.**

**I hope you find what—and who- you're looking for. **

**Sincerely,**

**Not Jessica**

I look over my email, knowing I sound dorky and not at all as clever as I was going for, and send it off, figuring he doesn't know me and we'll probably never talk again so what the hell.

I hear yet another something being dropped to the floor and groan. Pushing away from my desk, I grab a clean apron and wrap it around my waist before going back out into the cafe.

I hate to find out how much Mike is costing me in one day.

After another milk fiasco, two more shattered dishes and a broken coffee bean grinder, my patience is gone so I take off for home. In fact, Jacob offers to close up for me so that I can leave before I kill Mike. The guy has the nerve to smile and wish me a good night like today was a fucking great day.

Ugh. And the two of us open in the morning.

Someone needs to tell me why I hired this guy... and why I haven't fired him yet. He couldn't even remember what time we open. Jacob actually hissed it in his ear before I could throw something at his head.

Seriously. Mike basically owes Jacob his life.

There are some nights that I really need the six block walk home to clear my head. Today was one of those days. I pop my ear-buds in my ears and play something loud and angry on my iPod while I walk home in the cool night air.

Sadly, even over the booming bass of my music, I find myself thinking of the mysterious Edward. I wonder if he'll find the elusive Jessica that has his stuff hostage. I also wonder if I'll hear from him again.

"Pffft, doubtful," I say, making the old man standing next to me glance over in confusion. I blush and lock my eyes on the walk signal as we wait for it to change. When it does, I hurry away, tripping slightly as I step off the curb.

My bad mood is only slightly better as I step into my apartment building but I get a bit annoyed when I see that the elevator is broken. Again.

Well, at least I don't have an arm full of groceries like I did last week.

I trudge up the three flights of stairs and arrive on my doorstep only a little winded. I dig out my keys—which have fallen to the bottom of my purse, of course—and let myself in.

I flip on my lights to my tiny, shabby apartment. It's really only three rooms: the living room, complete with a small kitchenette like in hotels, a little bedroom and a bathroom. When I first moved in, I opted for the smaller apartment with the bigger bathroom which had a decent sized tub I could soak in. All the others had larger bedrooms but a standing only shower.

Not gonna happen.

Especially if I have to deal with Mike. I need my soaking tub.

I toss my keys onto the counter next to the coffee-maker—because running my own coffee shop does not fill my need for the drink—and dig in the cupboard for some dinner. I pull out a can of chicken and dumpling soup and my small soup pot and set it up on the stove.

As the soup heats, I rummage in my fridge for my last beer, hoping it'll relax me. I crack open the can and settle onto the couch, pulling my laptop onto my lap and propping my feet up on my ridiculously small coffee table.

I sip my beer and boot up the computer. Once it starts, I open up my email and gasp.

He sent me a reply.

"Oh, shit," I mumble and then hear my soup bubbling over. "Oh, shit!"

I slide the computer off my lap and sprint across the room, turning off the burner before my dinner can make too much of a mess. I look at my laptop from across the room, feeling like he's in my apartment here with me.

For some reason, while at work, it was no big deal. Here, in my home, this now feels personal. Sure, he doesn't know where I live or who I am—hell, he doesn't even know my name.

It just feels... different.

I take my time setting up the rest of my dinner, actually ladling the soup into a bowl as opposed just eating it straight out of the pan, and throw a few Saltine crackers into it.

I stand with my back against the counter, balancing the soup on my palm with a towel beneath it to protect my skin from the heat. I hear a jingling sound and my fat, black cat, Benjamin, comes padding into the room, his green eyes shining.

"What?" I say defensively. He blinks at me and yawns widely. "Should I check it?"

Benjamin sits down, licks his front paw and rubs his ear clean.

"Some help you are," I grumble, knowing it's pathetic that I talk to my cat.

I also tend to talk to myself a lot. In public. Around other people. At least when I talk to my cat, I look a little less crazy... right?

My heart is beating faster than it should be and I force myself to walk at a normal pace back to the couch. I ignore the way Benjamin squints his eyes at me as he follows my every move.

Taking a deep breath, I set my soup down on the table and pick up the laptop again.

**To: cafegirl87**

**From: DoubleEBar**

**Subject: My apologies**

**Dear Not Jessica,**

**I apologize for my stray email. I forgot I had saved her email in my contacts list and her name is coffeegirl87, so I was only a little off. I hope you understand.**

**I am happy to report that I did get my phone back already. Just after sending the email, the real Jessica actually came into my bar to return it. Sadly, she's insisting on keeping my shirt, which is too bad because it's my favorite Stoli shirt. I'll get it back somehow. Maybe she'll request a ransom. I don't have much money but I do have a large supply of liquor, seeing as I own a bar. Maybe I can pay her in tequila shots. Perhaps I could get her completely smashed and she'll give up the hostage's location. **

**I'm rambling now, aren't I? Let's get back on track here...**

**So you recognized the song? I asked her about it and I did in fact sing "Don't Stop", and very well, I might add. I never thought of myself as much of a singer but when you've attended three different bars in as many hours, you ingest a lot of liquid courage. Apparently I sang the song with her and after the fourth male phone number was inserted in my pocket, she wrote the line on my chest to... how did she put it? "Claim me" I believe is the term she used. I'm not sure how I feel about that. She laughed about it so maybe she was joking? I kind of hope so.**

**I'm sorry if I'm wasting your time here. There's a band playing at our bar tonight and it isn't quite my taste so I'm hiding in the office. My partner—but only in the business sense—is running the place on his own so maybe I should get back to him.**

**Sorry... again... for the miss-sent email and for now sending you another that you probably just skipped over. If you did, I don't blame you. **

**Oh, bugger... The crowd is getting rowdy out there. I better go. I don't know why, but I hope to hear from you again. At least to know you accept my apology and maybe even so I know your name. It's bothering me a bit. I don't know why I feel that way either. Maybe we should chalk it up to the shots I took earlier to calm my nerves about tonight. Crowds and emailing random girls makes me nervous, or so it seems.**

**Right, I was leaving now. Have yourself a good evening, Not Jessica.**

**Yours apologetically,**

**Edward Masen**

I gape at the email, at a loss as to why this man feels the need to apologize to me over an accidental email. It does make me feel a little better that he seems to be as nerdy as me when it comes to talking to the opposite sex. I'm amazed to find someone else that rambles more than I do. If he talks this much just in an email, I wonder what he's like in real life...

Benjamin meows at me, breaking me out of my thoughts. He's now sitting at my feet, his hungry eyes staring at my bowl of soup. I glance across the room and see he has a full dish of kitty kibble.

"Go eat your own food, dude," I scold, pointing at his food. He just licks his lips and looks at me sadly. I sigh and fish out a piece of chicken, setting it on the hardwood floor by his feet. He laps it up happily and when he's done, he jumps onto the couch next to me.

"Should I answer him?" I ask, gesturing to the email. Ben simply stares at my dinner again so I gently tug his face to look at me. "I could really use some feedback, my friend."

Ben closes his eyes and purrs loudly, the sensation making my fingers on his chin vibrate. I laugh and shake my head.

Yes, Bella, let's listen to the cat. What harm could it do?

I re-read the email and eat some of my meal before it gets cold. Once I'm down to the broth, I set it on the coffee table and nudge Ben. He immediately jumps onto the table and begins licking up the soup.

"Make sure to clean that bowl," I tell him. "You know I hate doing the dishes."

Wow. I must be losing it. Maybe I do need to answer Edward, just so that I can have some human contact for a change.

I sip my beer, take a deep breath and begin typing.

**To: DoubleEBar**

**From: cafegirl87**

**Subject: Apology accepted and not accepted**

**Dear Edward,**

**I accept your apology but at the same time I don't. Please don't feel bad about sending me the email, it's really no big deal. In fact, it kind of made my day. I'm about ready to chuck one of our employees—or kill him, whichever happens first—and I was actually hiding in my own office when I read your email. **

**I'm glad Jessica gave you back your phone but it's a little messed up that she's keeping the shirt. Stoli is my favorite brand of Vodka, so I'm assuming it's yours too. Sounds like she's into coffee, too and I own a coffee shop. Maybe I can send you some beans as payment for the captive. Hey, it's worth a shot!**

**You said she wanted to claim you... Does that mean you're dating? I'm just curious. I wouldn't mind keeping up our correspondence so it'd be nice to get to know you. That is, if you'd like. If not, I completely understand. I don't want to come across as a creep or anything. **

**It's just after eight here so I'm guessing you're a few hours ahead of me. Your concert must be in full swing, seeing as how you're in Chicago. Is it a big party town? I'm in Seattle and for the most part, we're pretty laid-back. Not that I'd really know. I'm more of the quiet type myself and don't go out bar-hopping. Of what you can remember, did you like it? Sorry if I'm getting too personal again. Go ahead and just ignore me if you want.**

**I should probably think about getting ready for bed now. I have to get up at about four in the morning to open my shop. If I didn't make coffee for a living, I'd probably die getting up so early for any other job. **

**Wow, looks like I like to ramble too! Guess we have something else in common.**

**I hope you have a good night.**

**Your new rambling buddy,**

**Not Jessica AKA Bella**

I look over what I've written and hit send before I can lose my nerve. Ben stares at me accusingly, his kitty tail swishing on the table.

"What? I was just being nice," I defend myself. "He deserved to know that I forgave him."

Ben continues to stare at me so I shove my computer away, cross my arms over my chest and glare back. After about thirty seconds, I can hear him purring noisily again and laugh. He squints his eyes shut and I swear he smiles.

God, I must be crazy.

"Come on, lazy bum," I sigh, standing up. "Let's take a bath and get to bed."

Ben trots after me as I put my bowl in the sink and my empty can in the recycle bin. He rubs between my legs, almost making me trip, so I go back into the kitchen and get out his bag of treats. He meows his little kitten meow and happily follows me into the bathroom.

I set his treat on the counter, out of reach, and turn on the bath. I hang my fingers under the stream of water and adjust the knobs until it's the right temperature and then add some vanilla scented bubble bath soap.

Ben waits on the closed toilet seat as I go back to my purse that I left on the floor by the door and dig out my iPod. When I come back, the tub is full of sweet smelling suds. I hook up my iPod in the docking station on the back of the toilet and switch on my classical mix.

I undress and set Ben's treat on the floor. He leaps off the toilet and begins munching, eating slowly to prolong his joy.

Once in the tub, I feel all my troubles melt away. I sigh as I feel myself sinking into the warm, soothing bubbles and close my eyes, imagining that I don't work with a dumbass that will most likely run my business into the ground if I don't do something about him fast.

Seriously, how could one guy make so many mistakes? He didn't even know what soy milk was and tried to tell a customer there was no such thing as lactose free milk when they told him about their intolerance. If Jacob hadn't been there to quickly make the drink while they were arguing, we would have lost one of our best customers. Unfortunately, we also had to comp his drink but at least Mike offered to let me take it out of his pay.

At the rate he was going, he'd soon be paying me to keep him on.

Ugh. I need to change my train of thought otherwise I'll be too tense to sleep.

My thoughts right away go to Edward. I'm pretty sure his time-zone is two hours ahead of mine meaning it's about eleven there. How late do concerts go on for? He does own a bar and some of those can stay open all night. I wonder if they have a decent closing hour. Three in the morning maybe?

And then I wonder what he's like to talk to in real life. He uses some odd terminology, making me curious where he's from. Do people in Chicago have their own lingo? I'm sure they do.

And what does he look like? Is he tall? Short? He works a bar, is he a badass covered in tattoos that rides a Harley? I giggle at the thought. Judging by his rambling, he seems a bit geeky. Does he wear glasses? Like to read? It'd be nice to find a guy that likes to read for a change. My last sort of boyfriend, Paul, hated to read anything.

Except Playboy, apparently.

Yeah, right. Getting it for the articles, my ass. There's no way an informative article would make a guy go out and find his own Playboy Bunny, complete with fuzzy bunny ears, and fuck her in his own living room. That was a very low self-esteem type of day.

Ugh. And now my relaxation is ruined.

The water is running cold, too, so I give up and pull the plug. Ben runs from the room at the sound of the water being sucked down the drain.

"Scaredy cat!" I call after him, rolling my eyes.

I towel off before I can freeze, turn off my music and head into the bedroom.

The nice thing about having an apartment to yourself above the ground floor is that you can walk by the open window naked. The building across the street is only a one story tall 24 hour laundry facility—at which I do my laundry at—so there's no chance of being spotted.

I dress in cotton boy shorts and a tank top and climb under the covers where my feet encounter a big ball of fur. I wiggle my toes, causing Ben to lick them and giggle, shoving him out of the way so I can get comfortable. I reach over to my short dresser and flip on my alarm, sighing heavily when the screen flashes the wake up time of four a.m.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day, I can feel it already. Let's hope that I at least didn't scare off my new email friend. I get the feeling it may be the only good part of my day.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? Would you like more? Leave me some lovin'!**


	2. Chapter 2: Sunday, Day Two

**A/N: The first thing I need to say is wow! I can't believe how many alerts and reviews I already have—all after one chapter! So, I decided I would reward all the love with another chapter! Now, don't get too used to this... I plan to update at least once a week but right now, I'm a few chapters in already so I can afford to post early. I'm sure I won't get any complaints... So please let me know if this was a good surprise! (By the way, I'm crossing my fingers right now, hoping it is good—I'm very insecure about my writing so I gotta know that you like it!)**

* * *

Chapter 2: Sunday, Day Two

"Seriously? It's called a Latte, which literally means milk."

"Oh, it does? Huh, learn something new every day."

I close my eyes and sigh, hanging my head. I can't believe what I'm hearing at the register right now. I have no fucking clue what Mike put in this customer's coffee but it obviously wasn't made with the key ingredient.

I rush over before the girl at the counter can get any more upset.

"I'm sorry, miss, Mike is our newest employee here and hasn't quite mastered all the drinks yet," I say with a smile, taking her funny looking mug of coffee away, trying not to grimace at the odd smell coming out of it. "I can make you a fresh drink, on the house, if you'd like."

"Yeah, that would be great," she says, slinging her purse over her shoulder again, giving Mike a dirty look and going back to her table of girlfriends.

"Yo!" I say, snapping my fingers in Mike's face. He had the gall to stare at the girl's ass as she walked away. "What is your problem?"

"What do you mean?" he asks innocently.

"Okay, so I know you don't seem to know the difference between different milk products," I say as calmly as possible, trying to keep my voice low. "But if you're not sure you need to _ask_ so that the customer is _happy._"

"Well, I thought I had it right," he mumbles. When I grit my teeth and widen my eyes at him he holds his hands up. "Alright, so maybe I didn't! I'll ask next time!"

"What the hell did you put in this anyways?" I ask, taking a sniff of the drink and recoiling.

"Uh..." Mike stares at the counter of different mixings and I look in horror at the mess he made.

Syrup containers are all over the counter, some of them on their side dripping out the sticky solutions. What looks like coffee grounds and cinnamon or nutmeg are sprinkled over the smooth surface, combining with other products. I set down the disgusting drink he made and go smell the counter.

It smells just like what he made.

"So you thought that a latte consisted of vanilla syrup, hazelnut syrup, whipped cream, cinnamon and burnt coffee?" I ask, one hand on my hip and the other rubbing my forehead in frustration.

"It sounded like it'd be good," Mike says hopefully, shrugging his shoulders.

"In what coffee shop, Mike?" I ask in exasperation, throwing my hands up and letting them slap down to my sides. "Hell, in what world?"

He shifts nervously from one foot to the other and I see him glance slyly at the clock on the wall. I look too and see that he's off in fifteen minutes.

Not soon enough.

"Just... go ahead and take off," I sigh, looking around the cafe. It looks like Mike has once again scared off most of the customers this morning.

"Oh, sure!" he says happily, as though the last ten minutes never happened. "See you Wednesday!"

He waves cheerfully as he takes off his apron and sprints out the door. I sigh again, thankful that at least he has the next two days off.

Though it's not busy, I'm glad to see Jacob walk in ten minutes early.

"Where's Mike?" he asks, looking around.

"Gone! Gone gone gone!" I groan, shuffling forward and throwing my arms around Jacob's massive waist.

I always forget how much he works out until I hug him.

"Gone like, fired gone?" he asks with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around my small frame.

"I wish," I grumble into his chest. I sigh sadly—man, I'm full of sighs today—and pull back. "I just let him go early."

"You're too nice, Bella," he laughs again, shaking his head. Then, he spots the mess on the counter. "What's..."

"Don't ask," I beg, rubbing my temples with the tips of my fingers.

"I probably don't want to know," he says, grabbing a rag to clean up. "Why don't you go take a break and I'll make you a sandwich."

"Thank you!" I say and drag myself into the office.

I only close the door partway and flop down into my computer chair, feeling completely spent already. I don't think I even made it through an entire cup of hot coffee all day and I'm definitely feeling it now. I had also tried sneaking over to my computer at some point but didn't even make it to the chair when I heard a very disturbing sound coming from one of the machines.

I slowly click through Facebook, lazily reading my friend's updates. Most of them were commenting on the unusually nice day, claiming it was fairly warm out.

I wouldn't know. I was stuck inside, fearing for the life of my business.

I comment on an update here and there, read an article on the Coffee Lovers Page wall and figure I should get back out there when I see my email tab indicates I have a waiting email.

How could I have forgotten about him?

Well, I kind of know how and it wasn't my fault.

I sit up straighter, feeling a smile spread on my face. My hands actually shake a little as I move the mouse to open the email.

Why the hell am I so excited about this?

**To: cafegirl87**

**From: DoubleEBar**

**Subject: Much better...**

**Dear Bella,**

**Nice to meet you, Bella! It feels so much better knowing your real name rather than calling you "Not Jessica". It felt a little rude, to be honest. **

**Speaking of Jessica, no she has no claim on me. We went out a few times, which was a mistake for many reasons, one of which being that she was hoping our bar would stock the wine produced from her family's winery. I should have known never to mix business and pleasure... Not that it wasn't that pleasurable. I mean, she's nice but... Oh and by pleasure I don't mean... We didn't... Oh God, I'm getting ahead of myself. Bottom line: We are not dating. There. That's what I should have said.**

**Anyways! Let's ramble about something else, shall we?**

**I would like to get to know you and your questions were not at all crossing the line. Now, if you had asked me what kind of underwear I wear... No, even that doesn't bother me. I wear boxer briefs, in case you were wondering. Shit. I probably just crossed the line there. And I cursed. I know I could just go back and delete it but if we're going to get to know each other then I might as well tell you that I tend to swear, especially when I'm nervous. **

**And now I just admitted that to you. Just don't reply if I'm too weird for you. I'd understand, really.**

**Okay, back to what I meant to write just now. Last night's concert went really well. We had a local band playing here but it was reggae music, which, like I said, is just not my thing. They were good, though. Everyone really enjoyed it and we made a lot of money. We're one of the smaller bars in town so we don't get as much business. Last night we did manage to stay open until almost two thirty in the morning. I'm just happy that we're not open until four this afternoon when we have the football crew over to watch the game and eat the free hot wings that Emmett makes. I'm supposed to go to the store for hot dogs but I hate the damn things so I'm putting it off until the last minute—which is really now seeing as it's three thirty already.**

**Three thirty here means it's one thirty there, right? Do you have a lunch rush? Or is everyone still at church right now? I hope you got enough coffee in you this morning after your terrible day with the rubbish employee yesterday. I hope you didn't have to deal with him today. If you did, I'm so sorry. Maybe my lame email will brighten your day.**

**I can hear Emmett yelling at me to get off my arse and go to the store so I better do that. I hope you have or rather are having a good day. **

**Yours sleepily,**

**Edward**

I grin stupidly, feeling like an idiot for being so happy about his email. Though he called it lame, it made my fucking day. Again.

And he wants me to write back, he wants to get to know me. It's been a while since any guy has taken any kind of interest with me. Paul was over a year ago but the good sex was even longer ago.

Okay, I'm getting way ahead of myself here. Edward lives in Chicago, as in way the hell away from me. All I could expect from this was a friendship, which was fine.

Really. It's fine.

I shake my head and take a deep breath to type out a reply.

**To: DoubleEBar**

**From: cafegirl87**

**Subject: Ugh**

**Dear Edward,**

**My subject line basically sums up my day so far. All my customers have been scared away which really sucks considering Sunday is one our busiest days, usually. Most people come in before church, which is why we're open so early, and then there's a big group that like to go to the early service and then come in. About now, I should be out on the floor, serving fresh bagels and hot coffees. Hard to do that when someone burnt our morning coffee and most of our bagels were ruined yesterday—long story. **

**Sounds like last night was a big hit. That must be good for business. I wish we could have concerts here. Maybe I should look around for some local musicians, like acoustic players, that want a few extra bucks and their name out there. First, I need to do something about the fact that that employee is losing us more than he's making us nearly every shift. Maybe it's time to rethink him staying here... **

**Sorry, my email is rather boring. Probably because of the lack of coffee today.**

**Don't be afraid to be yourself for me. I don't mind if you swear. Hell, I swear up a fucking storm every chance I get! Sorry, was that too much? Well, it's true. As for the preference of undergarments? Sorry, I won't share my own. At least not today.**

**Like I said, boring email. I'm just ready to be home now!**

**Can I ask you something? Is it weird that I'm happy that you don't belong to Jessica? It could be because of the night you had together. Sounds like you had fun but maybe she pushed you a little too much? I would have totally been out of my element if I were to go. But who knows... Maybe I just need the right person to go with.**

**Better get back to the grind. Bad pun, I know. **

**Yours in need of a fix,**

**Bella**

I frown at my sad excuse for an email. I had a few good flirts in there but not really enough. All well. I send it off anyway and turn around to find Jacob in the doorway, a sandwich and a fresh cup of coffee in his hand.

"You do know I love you, right?" I say in relief, standing and taking his offerings.

"Don't let my wife hear you say that," he says with a chuckle.

"Leah still not happy with you?" I question, following Jacob out into the dining room—it's still weirdly empty.

Damn you, Mike.

"She's just been real sensitive lately," he shrugs, sitting down at an empty table with me. The couple that had come in for coffee finishes and leave hand in hand, looking at each other sappily. Jacob watches them sadly. "I just wish she would talk to me sometimes, you know?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich.

Jacob makes the best damn sandwiches.

"I dunno… When something is bothering her, she doesn't bother to say anything, just wants me to figure it out," he complains, shredding a napkin between his fingers. He throws the pieces down and looks at me imploringly. "Like the other day, she had a shit day at work, so I thought she'd want to just forget about it. I made her a nice dinner, even brought out some wine, and rather than relaxing, she blew her fucking lid at me. Yelled at me for like an hour about how I didn't even care enough to ask her how her day went."

"Oh, geez," I mumble, taking a sip of my amazing, hot coffee.

"Yeah," he scoffs, shaking his head. "I tried to tell her I wanted her to just have a nice evening, to forget the bad day happened and she says she _needed_ to talk about it."

"Well, did she after that?"

"Yeah," he says with a dry chuckle. "Someone took her parking space at work."

"That's it?" I ask in disbelief; I was about to take another bite but lowered it to stare at my friend.

His wife is seriously crazy.

"Oh, no, that's not it!" he says in mock severity. "Someone also used her stapler!"

I snort into my coffee, the face of that guy from Office Space suddenly in my head.

"Should we start calling her Milton now?" I ask, wiping the coffee off my face with the napkin that Jacob hands me.

"God, only if you want to get your ass kicked," he says, shaking his head again.

"Might be worth it," I shrug.

A few customers come in so Jacob leaves me to finish my lunch alone. I try to drink my coffee slow but that doesn't fucking happen. It's not long before I'm both needing and wanting more.

There's never such a thing as too much coffee.

I take my plate to the sink and refill my mug, greeting a couple regulars that come in.

Since its quiet, I head to the back to take some inventory, which is actually something I enjoy. I like getting lost in the repetitive counting and stacking things just so. It makes me feel like I look organized.

Jacob says it makes me look OCD.

By three thirty, the day is winding down. Though I like how laid back Sunday is, sometimes I wish I kept the place open later just for something to do.

I mean, I know I have a fat, lazy cat waiting for me at home, along with at least half a dozen shows that I recorded this week but hey, a girl needs a life outside her fantastic apartment.

Ha! Sometimes I crack myself up…

"What are you snorting at over there?" Jacob asks as he dumps out the last of the used coffee grounds.

"Oh, nothing, just being stupid," I say with a slight blush.

Shit, the least I could do is _say _the stupid jokes out loud so that I don't look any more nuts than I probably already am.

Wait no… Because the jokes barely make sense to me.

God, I need to get out more.

"Bella, you really need to get out more," Jake says, making me snap my head up in surprise.

"What makes you say that?" I say quickly, worried that I had said my last thought out loud.

"I was just thinking earlier and wondering when the last time you went on a date," he says, wiping the counters down. "You're always either here or at home with Ben."

"You don't know that!" I huff, crossing my arms across my chest and trying to look insulted.

"Your last dozen Facebook status updates would say otherwise," he tells me, raising an eyebrow.

I feel my face flush and return to making sure all the machines are turned off.

"I've been meaning to ask you over for dinner," Jacob says as he throws his used rag under the sink. "Leah is making meatloaf tonight—your favorite."

I fucking love meatloaf. And he knows it.

"I don't know, Jake," I hedge. "If Leah has been all bitchy lately…"

"Only at me," he clarifies, taking off his apron. "She was the one the begged me to invite you over. She promised to make her famous mashed potatoes, too."

"The ones with cheese and ranch dressing mixed in?" I ask, my mouth already watering.

My original plan for dinner had been cereal.

I really need to go grocery shopping.

And to stop having conversations with myself in my head.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head, Bella," Jacob says with a chuckle. "Just say yes. You know you want to."

"Alright, fine, just twist my arm," I joke, rolling my eyes. "I need to go home and change and feed Ben first. Be over around five thirty?"

We close up shop and I hurry home, not even bothering to check if the elevator is fixed yet when I trip my way into the building and taking the stairs two at a time.

I let myself into my apartment and collapse onto the couch where Ben is snoozing in a sun spot. He barely looks my way when I plop down next to him, breathing heavily.

"Nice to see you, too, buddy," I mumble at him.

Once I've caught my breath, I drag my ass to the bathroom where I wash my face and brush my teeth. My jeans have coffee grounds stuck to them so I change into a clean pair and throw a cardigan over my t-shirt. After brushing through my hair quickly, I go out to the kitchen to find Ben waiting at his empty food bowl.

"I see how it is," I say, pulling out his bag of food and scooping some kibble into his dish. "Just using me for the food, aren't you?"

Ben's answer is to purr loudly as he chows down.

"I'm going out, don't wait up!" I call as I head out the door, keys and purse in hand.

Jacob is right. I _do_ need to get out more. Who the hell tells their damn cat they're going out?

For the first time in what feels like forever, I head to the parking lot and climb into my old beat up truck. It's been so long since I've taken it anywhere that it takes a few times to get the engine to turn over. I look down at the dash and see that the tank is nearly full.

The last time I took it out, I had filled it.

I don't even remember when the fuck that was.

I sigh sadly and shove the truck into gear, heading towards Jacob's condo across town.

Like usual, I let myself into their place and announce my presence. Leah comes trotting around the corner, a pink apron tied around her thin waist. It contrasts nicely with her dark skin and short black hair, as does her turquoise wrap dress.

Damn, I feel jealous of her effortless beauty. I don't even see more than mascara and a dab of lipgloss on her face and she looks fucking flawless.

"Bella!" she cries, reaching for me with outstretched arms. "It's been too long!"

"Hi, Leah, thanks for having me over," I say, letting her envelop me in a tight hug.

"You should know you're welcome anytime," she says, holding me at arm's length. "Everyone deserves some time out with friends."

She smiles and leads the way to the kitchen and I wonder if Jacob told her about my fabulous social life.

Alright fine, my lack of.

The heavenly smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes wafts out of the kitchen and I find myself being pulled towards it.

"Tongue back in your mouth, Bella," Jacob says from beside the counter. "You're drooling all down your shirt."

"Shut up and give me some wine," I tell him, holding my hand out expectantly.

He hands me a glass and I sip it gratefully.

"I'm sorry we don't have anything better than White Zinfandel," Leah says apologetically. "I _had_ some really nice stuff but it was opened recently."

I see her shoot a pointed look at Jacob who continues mashing the potatoes with more force than necessary. At the rate he's going, it'll be potato soup in minutes.

"No it's great, really," I assure her, pretending not to notice their sudden shift in moods. "I just finished off the last of my Bud Lite and I doubt I'll be able to get any for a few days."

"Oh then please, take our other bottle, if you like it," she insists, whipping off her apron and rushing into the pantry. She comes out clutching the tall, red-labeled bottle. "It wasn't real expensive and honestly, it wasn't what I wanted."

Jacob clears his throat loudly and throws his masher into the sink, making the dishes clink loudly together. Leah glares at him.

"Honey, please be careful over there," she says in a sickly sweet voice, smiling blandly. "I'd rather not have to buy more kitchenware already."

"Sure, sweetie," he says with a forced smile. "Potatoes are ready."

"Let me check," she says sternly, marching over to the bowl on the counter behind her husband.

Jacob leans against the counter next to her, locking his arms over his chest. He widens his eyes at me and draws his finger across his neck, pulling a grotesque face. For the second time today, I choke on my drink, this time inhaling most of it. Leah turns around to find me sputtering into my glass.

"Bella, honey, are you okay?" she asks, rushing forward and patting me on the back.

"I'm fine, it just went down the wrong tube," I gasp, waving her away. Once I've recovered, I smile. "How are the potatoes?"

"Well, I guess they'll do," she sighs, shaking her head. Behind her, Jacob mimes punching something; I struggle to keep a straight face. "If you would just grab the green beans, we can head into the dining room."

We each grab a dish and head to the full sized dining table, setting the food down in the middle. It's a quiet affair as we pass around the food and as usual, I add way too much to my plate. I can't help it, though; it all smells amazing.

I watch as Leah sniffs the potatoes before taking a dainty bite. She wrinkles her forehead, obviously contemplating whether or not they're actually edible.

"The potatoes are fantastic, Jake," I say, scooping up a huge spoonful.

"You don't think I put too much cheese?" he asks, the bitterness barely concealed in his voice.

"No, absolutely the perfect amount," I tell him, shoving the bite in my mouth.

"Yes, they're good, but what about the meatloaf?" Leah says, abandoning the potatoes and looking at me expectantly.

"It isn't too burnt?" Jacob asks with a mocking smile. Leah's gaze snaps to his briefly but then she picks up her wine glass and gulps half of it down.

"Actually, I like it a little crispy," I say, shooting Jacob a warning glance. He just shrugs his shoulders and tries to look innocent.

He better not fucking try to drag me into his shit.

We eat in relative silence for a few minutes but I can feel the tension rolling off the couple's bodies. I try to make a bit of small talk and though they answer me normally enough, one or the other will throw in an unnecessary quip to ruin the conversation.

As we're nearing the end of our meal, Leah speaks up, using that tone that implies she's trying to pick a fight. I ready myself to either help diffuse the situation or take off to protect myself.

"I _had_ planned chocolate mousse for dessert but, of course, _Jacob_ couldn't remember to pick it up at the store," she says coldly, her eyes on her plate and her shoulders stiff.

"Oh here we go," Jacob says, dropping his fork down with a clatter. "For the last time, Leah, I _did_ bring home the ingredients for dessert; it was _you_ who felt they weren't fucking good enough, like always."

"It wasn't the right brand, Jacob, and you damn well know that!" Leah yells, clenching her fists on the table and staring daggers at him.

"What the fuck does the brand matter?" Jacob spits back; I slowly start to back my chair away.

"What does it matter? _What does it matter?" _Leah screeches, her eyes bugging out of her head.

I swear, only fucking dogs can hear her now.

I don't stay for Jacob's retort. As Leah stands up so fast that her chair tips over, I quietly get up and slip into the kitchen. I grab my purse and my bottle of wine and take the long way out the back door. I've escaped this way a few times to I'm able to easily navigate my way through the side gate and across the darkened lawn.

I drive home slowly, in no hurry to get back to my solitary life. For about an hour, I thought that maybe I'd be able to have a decent night in with friends. I should have known that Jacob and Leah's problems were getting too bad for that.

The two have been married for three years and before that, they had dated for just over four. They were so good together but within the last year, things had changed. They had been trying for months to get pregnant but with no luck. It seems as though the stress was getting to Leah. It seems like all she did now was pick fights over stupid shit. For a while, Jacob just ignored it, hoping she'd calm down on her own. Looks to me like it only got worse.

Back in my now dark apartment, I'm greeted by a giant ball of fluff rubbing against my legs. I turn the lights off and kneel down, setting my purse on the floor.

"Well, that's more like it," I say, scratching behind Ben's ears. He puts his front paws on my leg and pushes his face into my hand.

I head off to the bedroom and my peeping tom of a cat follows to watch my undress and change into my shorts and tank top pajama combo. On my way back to the living room, I grab a hair tie from the bathroom and put my hair up in a messy ponytail.

After making some popcorn, I settle onto the couch and automatically put on Food Network. A new episode of Worst Chefs in America is on and though I hate that Chef Anne chick, the amazingly horrendous cooks are so fucking hilarious to watch. Ben curls up next to me and it's not long before I've forgotten Jake and his fucked up marriage situation.

Halfway through the show during a commercial break, I notice my laptop sitting on the coffee table where I had left it. In all the rush during the afternoon to get to dinner, I had forgotten about Edward. I had planned on checking my email before going home for the day but obviously that hadn't happened. I wonder if he ever emailed me back. He said that the bar hosted a kind of Sunday night football thing. How long could that shit go?

I glance at the clock. It's nearly eight thirty here, meaning its ten thirty over in Chicago. Is the bar open late even though it's a Sunday night? It's been so long since I've gone to one that I have no idea.

"Oh hell, might as well check it," I say, grabbing my laptop and setting it on my blanket covered lap.

I had only put the computer in sleep mode so it boots up quickly, my email still open to the same page as before. I refresh it and see an email from him. That damn idiotic grin spreads across my face again and I bite down on my lip, attempting to hide it.

From whom, I have no idea. It's not like Ben cares.

Or maybe he does, judging by the way he's glaring at me.

"Oh shut up," I say, grabbing his mouse toy off the ground and tossing it across the room. He charges after it, pouncing on it like it's the real fucking thing.

I take a deep breath and open the message.

**To: cafegirl87**

**From: DoubleEBar**

**Subject: Ugh for me too**

**Bella,**

**It sounds like we had a pretty similar day, though the shitty part of mine happened at the end of the day. It started out okay—I picked up the damn hot dogs that Emmett wanted and a good group of guys showed up to watch the game. Everything was going smoothly until another bunch showed up. **

**Now, normally when groups rooting for opposing teams show up, it makes things more interesting, in a good way. Friendly bets take place, playful banter is exchanged and the day is more fun all around. Well, not today.**

**Long story short, words were said and bets were lost and before I knew it, I was in the middle of a brawl, trying to pull one guy off another over and over again. Usually Emmett is the one to do all the heavy lifting, seeing as he has about thirty more pounds of muscle on him than I do, but I'm faster. He called the cops, who thankfully were in the neighborhood, and after breaking up the fight, two guys were sent to the hospital and three were arrested.**

**Actually, three went to the hospital. I was one of them.**

**Now, if you're still interested in talking to me and are still reading this, please don't freak out. Bar brawls happen all the time and all I got was a few stitches in my bottom lip. It's a little sore but I've got a bag of frozen peas next to me and we closed up the bar early so I'm writing to you from my flat. **

**And now I've spent this entire email talking about myself. I had thought up about a million questions I had wanted to ask you but I guess that blow to the face knocked them all out of my head. Or maybe it's the drugs the hospital gave me to help with the pain. Not that I'm writing to you while I'm high! Shit, I really should just learn to just delete stuff in my emails to you. At this rate, you'll have had enough of me by the next one. **

**Well, what would you like to tell me about yourself? Any interesting quirks? Any bad habits? I do have one that I really am trying to fix. I've been trying to quit smoking for years now and I'm making pretty good progress. I haven't had a ciggy in about four days now. Oh wait… I had one tonight after the fight to calm my nerves. Okay, so it's been an hour and a half. **

**Oh I do remember one question! I was wondering how you feel about live chat. Now I don't mean anything dirty, just regular chat—no videos, no microphones or anything. Sometimes it feels like we don't get to learn much about each other through these long ass emails except for what happened during the one day. Don't get me wrong, I do like hearing about your day. Though we've only been talking for two days now, I look forward to hearing from you each time.**

**Just… think about it. I'm a little loopy from the pills so maybe it's the drugs talking. Tell me tomorrow if I was out of line. I don't know if I'll remember it anyways. **

**Okay, rambling over. Time for the guy with the messed up face to get some sleep. **

**Yours waiting patiently,**

**Edward AKA The Drunken Man's Punching Bag**

I stare in disbelief at Edward's email.

Two days, and he already wants to chat with me, for real. Only two days and I haven't scared this guy away.

Only two days and I already can't stop thinking about him.

"Ben, what the fuck do I do?" I whisper frantically. "Is it too soon?"

Ben looks at me, his toy mouse dangling from his teeth. His tail swishes back and forth across the hard wood floor, making dust bunnies float around.

I sigh and re-read the email.

I feel bad about how his night turned out. He said it was no big deal but it obviously meant enough to tell me about it.

I obviously meant enough.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, contemplating what to write back to him. I've always hated to disappoint people so if I said no, would he be upset? He was leaving it up to me so maybe he wouldn't be. I wasn't sure if it was too soon or not; it had been two days, but ten emails.

My police chief of a dad would tell me that it was wrong to keep talking to him no matter what, that this guy could be a fucking creep.

Not that my dad would swear like that. I paraphrase.

My hippie of a mom would say to follow my heart, my instinct.

For the most part, I connect a bit more with my level headed dad.

But if I was being honest with myself, I wanted my answer to be yes.

Taking a deep breath, I begin writing back.

* * *

**A/N: Well? What do you think? Still good? Oh and another question! How did you find me? I hope some (or all!) of you will share because I'm dying to know how I got so much love so quickly! **


	3. Chapter 3: Monday, Day Three

**A/N: I still can't believe the love for this fic already! Seriously, it's mind-blowing. And I've really wanted to reply to each and every one of you but they've been coming in so fast. I do read every single one though and love ya right back! **

**I totally meant to have this update out for you this past Saturday but I got busy all weekend and then yesterday... Oh boy. I work at an in-home daycare and we got two new kids and one of them literally cried alllllll day. Needless to say, I was exhausted by the time I got home. Today they're better so I got time for your update! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 3: Monday, Day Three

I roll over and stare at the clock.

3:15 in the morning.

Ugh. Why can't I sleep?

I know I need to sleep. Monday mornings are fucking brutal. So many people come in in such foul moods, in desperate need of a fix before starting their work week. I don't blame them, really; I can't function without my caffeine either.

I turn over again and punch my pillow into a more comfortable shape. I lay my head down with a sigh and close my eyes.

Not even a minute later and my eyes snap open again. I roll onto my back and growl, scaring Ben off the bed. He shoots me a glare in the dark and saunters out to the kitchen. I soon hear him crunching on his left over dinner.

Maybe a snack will help.

I climb out of bed and throw on my old, tattered robe. Wrapping it tightly around myself, I shove my feet into my old slippers and shuffle in the direction of Ben.

His dish is empty and he's looking at me expectantly. I shake my head and make a "tsk-ing" sound at him.

"Your fault for eating it all," I tell him, opening the cupboard and pulling out my Frosted Flakes. Ben meows at me in a pathetic way and I give in. "Alright, but only half a scoop!"

I dish out a bit of kibble, making Ben purr happily.

No wonder he's so fat. I give into him too damn easily.

I open the fridge to get some milk but come out with a nearly empty carton.

Why I put it back in there in the first place when there was about a tablespoon left is beyond me.

I sigh heavily and toss it in the trash, settling onto the couch with the box of cereal in my hands. I eat it dry, listening to the sounds of the night outside my window. It's nearly four and I can already hear the sounds of blaring sirens, horns honking and the occasional bird chirping.

I see my laptop blinking at me, indicating a low battery. I pick it up and wiggle the cursor, bringing the screen back to life. My email from earlier is still on the screen and I read it again, still wondering if I shouldn't have sent it.

**To: Edward**

** From: cafegirl87**

** Subject: Sunday night is alright for fights...**

** Dear Edward,**

** I'm really sorry about your trip to the emergency room. I've been there a few times myself, but always of my own doing. My most recent trip was when I dropped a pot of hot coffee on my foot. Is it weird that I actually got a bit worried when I read about the brawl? We may not know each other well but I still felt bad. **

** I'd like to say that my night went better but really it didn't. I might as well say that I was in the middle of a fight, too, though this one involved more words than fists. Though that may have made things more interesting... **

** I went to my friend/co-worker's house for dinner and he told me his wife had invited me but from the way they kept going at it, I'm not so sure about that. Almost from the moment I walked in, they were fighting. And not even about anything important—stupid little shit that didn't need to be brought up, especially around company. And I thought he was just exaggerating it! Nope. Who the hell starts a huge fight over what brand of chocolate was bought for dessert? Seriously, I practically live off of store brand mac and cheese and the cheapest beer I can afford; I'm not really one to notice or complain about that kind of thing. **

** Alright, I'm mainly stalling now. I know you don't like to censor yourself, which I do appreciate, but I just deleted like a page worth of a needless explanation of nearly the entire episode of Worst Chefs in America I'm watching right now in an attempt to avoid what I should be talking about.**

** You asked if we could chat for real. Whether or not that was your drugs talking, I wanted to give you an answer. The honest truth is that I had thought about it, too. It's one thing writing emails back in forth where you really can delete your pointless ramblings, it's another to talk in real time with really no holding back. And though I am curious about the face behind the bar, so to speak, I do appreciate you letting us wait for that. I'm not the most confident person and I'm actually a little nervous that if you see me and how plain I am, big, tough-guy, bartender Edward won't want to talk anymore. Silly, I know, but I told you I wanted to be honest and you wanted that as well. **

** So... yes, I'd love to chat. But we have different email providers so how about Skype? It's easy and free so if you don't have it, it won't cost a thing. I use it to chat with my mom in Florida and sometimes for business related stuff. My name for Skype is the same as my email. Just send me a request and let me know a good time coming up to chat. Well, if you want to chat soon, that is. Which I assume you do since you asked about it.**

** Okay, shutting up now and heading to bed. I hope you feel better.**

** Awaiting nervously,**

** Bella**

I bite my lip, still worried about the fact that I put myself out there like that. Sure, it can't be much different than chatting in emails and what's the worst that could happen? We get bored with each other, is all.

Or he turns out to be a creepy stalker guy.

God, please don't let him be a creepy stalker guy...

I sigh and grab my power cord, all thoughts of sleep long gone. I plug in my laptop and refresh Facebook but seeing as how it's past four in the morning now, I'm not surprised there aren't any new updates.

I sign into Skype—just so that it's already loaded on my computer and not because I am now the crazy stalker person waiting for him to send me an add—and then decide to make some coffee. If I'm going to stay awake, might as well be very awake.

I eat a few more mouthfuls of cereal before putting it away and then get impatient with the pace at which my coffee is brewing and switch the pot for a mug. When the mug is full, I slip the pot back in and take a tentative sip of my coffee.

"Shit!" I cry as it burns my tongue.

Just then, my email chimes. I hurry over to the couch, slopping coffee onto the sleeve of my robe as I go, and sit down quickly. I put my coffee on the table and fold my legs under me, grabbing my laptop—possibly a little too enthusiastically.

I smile as I see his name highlighted.

**To: Bella**

** From: Edward**

** Subject: Can't sleep...**

** Dear Bella,**

** Never before has not being able to sleep been so welcome. My lip has been hurting all night so I gave up about twenty minutes ago. I was just going to run to the gym when I saw your email. I'm glad my Vicodin-induced blubberings didn't scare you away.**

** I thought about writing you a longer email but I'd rather do more talking in real time, as you put it. And if you're willing to give this old man a chance, I'm going to try not to muck it up anymore than I might have already.**

** Our bar actually already has a Skype account and I'll add you on just after I finish this. I'm just bloody lucky Emmett never uses it otherwise you would for sure run away, screaming.**

** Anxiously awaiting,**

** Edward**

I let out a deep breath I didn't realize I was holding and smile bigger.

He still wants to talk to my crazy ass.

And then my computer dings again.

I gasp.

It's him.

On Skype.

Why can't I think more than two words?

Oh wait, I just did.

Huh. I always forget how loopy I get from lack of sleep. Maybe I should close the program...

And then a message appears.

_ **E: Good morning, Bella.**_

I freeze.

Do I answer him? I don't know if I'm ready to do this yet. What do we talk about? What do I say? How much do I share?

_**E: Bella, are you there?**_

Might as well answer him, you idiot.

_Bella: Hey, yeah, I'm here._

_ Bella: Oh, and good morning._

_ **E: I didn't expect to see you on so early.**_

_ Bella: Yeah, I couldn't sleep._

_ **E: Isn't it dawn there?**_

_ Bella: Just before. It's about 4:15._

_ **E: How long have you been up for?**_

_ Bella: Eh... not long._

_ **E: Let me ask you this way...** **How many cups of coffee have you had so far?**_

_ Bella: How is it you know me so well?_

_ **E: You own a coffee house...** **Chances are, you're obsessed with coffee and roll out of bed to a fresh cup every morning.**_

_ Bella: Well, aren't you a smarty pants._

_ **E: It's Mr.** **Smarty Pants, thank you very much.**_

_ Bella: Uh huh... Have you taken your meds this morning?_

_ **E: Actually, no.** **I'm just a cheeky little bugger when I haven't had enough sleep.**_

_ Bella: Drink some coffee, it might help._

_ **E: Nah, I'm usually this annoying.**_

_ Bella: I believe you._

_ **E: Why, thanks!**_

_ Bella: I slept on and off for a few hours but gave up all together about a half hour ago._

_ **E: Ah.**_

_ Bella: So tell me..._

_ **E: Yes...?**_

_ Bella: Why is your name on here just an E?_

_ **E: That's what you start with?**_

_ Bella: Well, it was the pressing matter of the moment._

_ **E: I share this account with Emmett. **_

_ Bella: Ah, that's right._

_ Bella: Oh! Double E Bar! I get it now..._

_ **E: Good job!**_

_ Bella: Shut up..._

_** E: Really? Okay, I'll leave now...**_

_ Bella: I'm kidding! Get back here!_

_ **E: Never left, my dear.**_

_ Bella: Alright, real question now._

_ **E: Nope, my turn.**_

_ Bella: Seriously, that counted as my first question?_

_ **E: Yes, yes it did.**_

_ Bella: Fine, fine... Question one for Mr. Annoying Smarty Pants._

_ **E: Told you I was annoying...**_

_ Bella: I'm waiting..._

_ **E: Right. What's the name of your coffee house?**_

_ Bella: That's your big question?_

_ **E: I thought I'd take it easy on you.**_

_ Bella: Okay, then. Its called Back to the Grind._

_ **E: Clever. **_

_** E: Hence your pun about going back to the grind! I understand that now.**_

_ Bella: Good job!_

_ **E: Oh, ha ha.**_

_** E: Your turn. **_

_ Bella: Alrighty. Where are you from?  
**E: What makes you think I'm not just from The Windy City?**_

_ Bella: For one, I doubt people from Chicago actually call it The Windy City._

_ **E: True. Anything else?**_

_ Bella: You... talk funny._

_ **E: I do now, huh?**_

_ Bella: Yes, you do. _

_ **E: Examples?**_

_ Bella: Bugger, bloody, flat, arse, ciggy, pub, muck..._

_ **E: And these words make you think I'm foreign?**_

_ Bella: You also don't like hot dogs and don't know who Journey is. What American doesn't know who the hell Journey is?_

_ **E: Alright, alright... You caught me. Damn, I thought I was blending in.**_

_ Bella: Yeah, right... So...?_

_ **E: What?**_

_ Bella: Where are you from, Mr. Annoying Foreign Smarty Pants?_

_ **E: Wow my name is getting pretty long here...**_

_ **E: Originally, I'm from Italy but when I was seven my parents moved us to London.**_

_ Bella: No shit? That's hot._

_ **E: Excuse me...?**_

_ Bella: Shit. I totally just smacked myself in the face for writing that..._

_ **E: What, why?**_

_ Bella: Uh, duh! Embarrassing!_

_ **E: Hmm I'm already liking this whole live chat thing...**_

_ Bella: Shut up. Just wait til you say something stupid!_

_ **E: We'll see about that...** _

_ **E: My turn!**_

_ Bella: Alright, what very important question do you have for me?_

_ **E: I did try asking already but you never said...** **Any interesting quirks or habits?**_

_ Bella: Ah, yes. One of your questions asked while under the influence..._

_ **E: Bloody hell, I'm not going to live that down, am I?**_

_ Bella: Depends on if you write to me like that again..._

_ Bella: And besides my constant need for coffee and habit of talking to my cat like he understands me, I don't think I do. I used to bite my nails but I've pretty much stopped that._

_ **E: Ah, good for you!** _

_ Bella: How are you doing with your "ciggy" habit?_

_ **E: Are you making fun of the way I talk?**_

_ Bella: No, no of course not... Okay, yes. What are you going to do about it?_

_ **E: I am... going to...**_

_ **E: Realize how silly that word sounds now.** **I hope I don't sound that dumb in person.**_

_ Bella: Only one way to know..._

_ **E: Are you suggesting what I think you are?**_

_ Bella: What?_

_ Bella: Shit, no, I mean, maybe eventually but I don't know, it's still early. Not in the morning but like in our... chatting stage. Not that I wouldn't like to actually hear you talk but... I ju_

_ Bella: Damn it, didn't mean to hit enter... I should have deleted all that. Just... ignore me._

_ **E: Again, I am liking this live chat!**_

_ Bella: Ugh._

_ Bella: Why haven't you said something stupid yet?_

_ **E: Well, I can't get a word in edgewise with all your ramblings.**_

_ Bella: Again. Ugh._

_ **E: Do I need to just tell you something embarrassing to even the score?**_

_ Bella: Yes! Please do... But make it a good one._

_ **E: Alright...** **Hmmm...** **Well, I wear glasses sometimes.**_

_ Bella: Not good enough..._

_ **E: Fair enough.** **I am terrible with women.**_

_ Bella: Nuh uh!_

_** E: Yes huh! The other night, some girl—who was way too young for me, by the way—tried to chat me up to get a free drink. We have a strict policy about that (something I had to put in place because of Emmett The Chick Magnet) and I completely made a ninny of myself and spilled drink all over the bar and tripped over the cord for the dispenser. How, I don't know.**_

_** E: I ended up giving her a free drink anyways, seeing as how I got most of the drink on her lap as well.**_

_ Bella: That is pretty embarrassing. Sounds like you're just as klutzy as me!_

_ **E: Only around pretty girls, apparently.**_

_ Bella: Oh? She was pretty?_

_ **E: Are you jealous?**_

_ Bella: Hell no! Okay, maybe a tiny bit... But only because you haven't seen me. Hopefully, in your mind, I'm physically attractive. Just keep that vision in there._

_ **E: If your looks match your personality, I already know you're beautiful.**_

_ Bella: Blushing now..._

_ **E: Or, you're funny looking on the outside because you are a very clever girl.**_

_ Bella: Alright, blush gone! _

_ Bella: And you do know you said "ninny". Don't only like eighty year old women say that?_

_ **E: Oh, blimey, did I say that?** **Damn, that's something my mother says...** _

_ **E: Now I'm the one with the red face...**_

_ Bella: Good!_

_ **E: Damn, Emmett is up now.**_

_ Bella: Is that bad?_

_ **E: Well, if he gets up and I haven't gone to the gym yet, he likes to tag along.** **If he sees me on here, he'll ask questions and we'll never get out of here.**_

_ Bella: Are you hiding me?_

_ **E: What?** **God, no!** **He just tends to get pretty nosey.** _

_ Bella: But..._

_ **E: Hmm?**_

_ Bella: I do like talking to you._

_ **E: I like talking to you as well.**_

_ Bella: Oh shit, I have to go anyways._

_ **E: Duty calls?**_

_ Bella: Yeah, if these coffee drinkers don't get what they want, things can turn ugly._

_ **E: Remind me not to keep you from your coffee...**_

_ Bella: Damn straight!_

_ Bella: So..._

_ **E: Until we meet again?**_

_ Bella: When will that be?_

_ **E: Tonight?**_

_ Bella: Eager, are we?_

_ **E: Maybe a little...**_

_ Bella: I want to say yes but I have dinner plans with my dad tonight. Tomorrow?_

_ **E: That works.**_

_ **E: Oh wait, it doesn't.** **Damn**._

_ Bella: Double damn._

_ **E: We'll find time, I'm sure.** **I'll email you tonight?**_

_ Bella: Sounds good._

_ **E: Triple damn, Emmett is banging on the door...** **I better be off.**_

_ Bella: Alright um... Have a good day?_

_ **E: Same to you!** _

_ Bella: Mike is off so it should be! Oh but I have to deal with Jacob... After last night, I'm a little cheesed off._

_ **E: You Americans and your obsession with cheese...**_

_ Bella: I'm more obsessed with coffee._

_ **E: Indeed you are.** _

_ Bella: Alright... Bye for now then._

_ **E: Take care, Bella.**_

I'm smiling like the hugest idiot ever as I watch him sign off.

No fucking way this guy is a creeper.

It was weird how easy it was to chat with him. Its rare that I can find someone willing to put up with my sarcasm and here's this guy I've never met that banters back like we've known each other for years. Not even Jacob can keep up half the time.

I hear my phone ringing from the other room and glance at the clock.

"Ah, hell, I'm late!" I cry, leaping off the couch and sprinting towards the bedroom.

I snatch my phone up just before it goes to voicemail. Only one person would be calling this early.

"I am so sorry, Jake," I say, throwing clothes over my shoulder as I search my drawers for decent t-shirt to wear into work today. "I'll be there in twenty minutes.

"Take your time Bella, I can open," he tells me.

"What?" I say in disbelief, stripping out of my boy shorts one handed. "But you hate to open."

"Yeah, I know but I figured I owe you after last night," he says with a sad sigh.

"Oh, good point," I say, tucking the phone to my shoulder and sitting on the bed to put on my jeans. "Well, I'll still be there soon. I'm changing now."

"Oh, am I talking to naked Bella right now?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Oh, shut up," I tell him, now searching my drawer for a bra. "I think you've actually _seen_ naked Bella before."

"I didn't mean to!" he says quickly.

"Yeah, sure you didn't," I say, rolling my eyes. "You're just saying that for Leah's benefit—who I do think I scarred for life."

"Ugh, I don't even want to hear about her," he grumbles.

"You're going to have to do _some_ talking about her when I get there," I scold and he sighs again.

"Yeah, I know," he says sadly and I hear the sound of keys rattling. "I just got here. See you soon?"

"Yup! Bye," I say, ending the call and throwing my phone onto my unmade bed. Ben is sitting and staring at me. "What? I fed you earlier."

Ben squints his eyes and flicks his tail.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'll give you more anyways, you fatty," I say, putting on my bra and shirt and grabbing my sneakers.

I throw some food into Ben's bowl, pat him hastily and rush out the door, keys and purse in hand. I half jog, half power walk to the cafe, arriving just ten minutes after opening.

"Hey, Jake," I huff as I walk in.

"Hey, beautiful," he says easily as he begins brewing the first batch of coffee of the day. He turns to me and puts his hands on his apron-clad waist. "I'm guessing you have questions."

"And I'm hoping you have answers," I tell him, putting on my own apron. "So... talk."

Taking a deep breath, Jacob begins.

The day passed quickly and with no spilling incidents—one of the many benefits of Mike having the day off. We talk a bit about his crumbling relationship with Leah but neither of us come to a rational conclusion for her behavior. Turns out, she did invite me over but admitted later that she was hoping I'd notice all his flaws as well and "talk some sense into him" or some shit.

Are all us girls this complicated?

Jake offered to work a double shift in exchange for the shitty dinner and I decided to take him up on the offer. I downed at least a dozen fucking strong cups of coffee throughout the day but by lunch, my lack of sleep caught up to me and I felt myself nodding off at my desk when I went in to check on the new bagel order.

I'm home by two-thirty, still yawning non-stop, and collapse onto the couch. Ben cuddles up with me and I fall asleep quickly.

I wake up to my ringing phone.

"Huh, whazat?" I mumble stupidly, looking around in the semi-darkness. I yawn widely and reach around blindly for my purse. I pull out my phone and groan when I see who's calling.

"Hey, dad," I say with another jaw-popping yawn. "Is it time for dinner already?"

"Yes, it is, Bells," he says gruffly. "I'm standing outside your building now. Do I need to come up and collect you?"

"No, I think I can handle walking down the stairs on my own," I say, rolling my eyes. I stand up and stretch before going to the bedroom to grab a jacket. I hear Ben's collar jingle as he prances after me, as usual expecting food.

"I don't know, kid," Charlie says skeptically. "This place looks kind of sketchy."

"It's fine, dad," I insist, grabbing my nicest jacket. "I'll see you downstairs in a minute."

Though it's really not that far, Charlie insists on driving. I feel like it goes even slower this way than on foot, partly because of the fact that he always drives his police cruiser.

Nothing slows down traffic like a damn cop.

As usual, we go to The Daily Grill. Though it's supposed to be just a friendly 1940s type place, I feel uncomfortable the moment we walk in. For one thing, the hostess jumps at the chance to seat us, being overly-friendly to Chief Swan. For another, the place is fancy as hell. I feel so out of place in my jeans and sneakers—crap, I even forgot socks, and it shows—and I notice that Charlie is even wearing a tie and button-up shirt tonight. I try not to sigh as we get seated at the best table in the place.

I look over the menu, frowning at the fanciness. The waitress comes quickly and Charlie doesn't even bother to ask what I'd like to drink and orders red wine.

"The filet mignon sounds good," he comments as he peruses the choices.

"Um, I was thinking the meatloaf," I muse. "Comes in a red sauce. Oh and it has wild mushrooms and veggies! And mac and cheese, cool."

"Mac and cheese?" Charlie says in disgust, looking over his menu at me.

"Yeah, it has cubed bacon and more wild mushrooms in it," I say happily, closing my menu and setting it aside. Charlie shakes his head.

"Alright then," he says with a sigh. "I'm thinking the charbroiled skirt steak with shoestring veggies and red-skin mash. Sounds promising."

He smiles as he reaches for his wine and I try to smile back, looking interested in his choice but honestly, it sounds boring.

The waitress is back and Charlie once again orders for me. I half expected him to change my choice but thankfully, he doesn't.

"So, how is your business doing?" he asks, sipping his wine.

"Pretty good, though I do have one employee we could do without," I tell him, swirling my wine around in it's glass.

"Oh is Jacob not working out?"

"What? No, it's not Jacob," I say, wrinkling my forehead in confusion. "Why would it be Jacob?"

"I don't know, he just didn't seem like a hard worker," Charlie says with a shrug, looking around the restaurant in disinterest.

"Jacob is an excellent employee," I say, almost defensively but he doesn't notice. I sigh and continue. "I have a new employee named Mike, Mike Newton."

"Newton?" Charlie says, turning to look at me with a smile. "I know the Newton's, very respectable family."

"Well, that's nice," I say slowly, chuckling a little. "But Mike..."

"What's wrong with Mike?" Charlie snaps.

"Dad, you know I can't discuss the competence of my employees," I say, shifting in my chair. "Let's just say he's not... fitting in."

"Hmm," he hums, drinking his wine and turning away again.

Ugh. This is why we only eat together every couple weeks.

I gulp half my wine down before he notices and then try to strike up another conversation.

"So... how's work?" I ask.

"Fine," he says shortly and then suddenly leans forward, looking at me seriously. "Listen, Bells, I was thinking. Maybe you should think about moving back to Forks."

"What? Why?" I ask with a frown. "I like living in Seattle."

"It's not a very safe town," he says quietly, as though the crooks are listening in at the next table.

"It's safe enough," I tell him at a volume slightly above normal. His frown deepens and he continues.

"There's a nice one bedroom house, close to the station, that is renting out," he tells me, pulling out his phone and showing me a picture of a tiny little cottage-type house. "Decent price, single bathroom with a big shower and a big front porch."

Shower? I don't think so.

"Dad, I can't afford to live in a house," I tell him, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. "And I hate showers. I take baths."

"I can help with the cost, that's no problem," he says impatiently, putting his phone away. "I can even pay it for a few years, if you'd like."

Well, I don't like.

"What about my coffee house?" I ask, my face flaring with anger.

"Is it really doing so well?" he asks with a laugh.

And that does it.

"I'll be right back," I say sharply, grabbing my jacket and standing up.

"Food should be ready, Bella, where are you going?" Charlie asks, a slight edge to his voice. I can tell he's worried I'm going to make a scene.

Like I did last time.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," I tell him blandly.

He looks at my jacket but just shakes his head and takes another drink of wine.

I huff angrily and stomp towards the kitchen, glancing back over my shoulder to make sure he's not looking.

"Excuse me, but I'm sitting at that table there," I say to the nearest waitress, pointing in the direction of my father. "I was wondering—"  
"Oh, Chief Swan's table, yes of course!" the waitress says cheerfully—too cheerfully. She flashes her obscenely white teeth at me and fingers the top button of her blouse.

Yeah, you're really getting some from the damn Chief of Forks police.

"Uh, yeah..." I say slowly, giving my head a small shake. "I was just wondering if you can pack up the meatloaf dinner to go."

She looks at me slightly confused—or rather more confused than before—but agrees and returns from the kitchen a few minutes later with a plastic bag with a to-go container in it.

I mutter a quick thanks and bolt out the door, racing down a few blocks before Charlie notices I'm gone. Once I figure I'm clear, I slow down and make my way home, trying to calm down but I'm fucking seething.

It's taken me years to get where I am and honestly, I'm happy. Sure, I don't live in the best of places and I have to wash my clothes in a public washer but I don't care. I'd rather live anywhere else than under the roof of Chief Swan again.

What kind of dad discourages their kid's dream? He seriously spent way too much time and energy on trying to convince me what a bad idea the place was. In the end, he did pay for the down payment but I've been working on paying him back, every damn penny.

Now is one of those times I wish I had a friend or a roommate, besides Ben, to whine to.

I look down at my phone; it's not even seven yet, meaning it's only nine in Chicago.

Huh. Wonder if he's still open...

My thoughts drift to Edward and in my head, I start writing my email to him. I hate to complain to him again but I have a feeling he'll understand. After all, he has his own business.

Charlie doesn't even bother calling until I'm home, twenty minutes later. I ignore the call and expect a voicemail, but I get nothing.

Yeah, nice guy, my dad.

* * *

**A/N: So what did you think of their conversation? And what do you think of Charlie?**

**And in answer to the question many have asked, I hope to update every week, like Friday or Saturday. As long as I actually stick to keeping a chapter or two ahead of my postings, I should be good. No promises though! But I do promise not to bail on you.**


	4. Chapter 4: Tuesday, Day Four

**A/N: I totally meant to update days ago but I've been swamped at work... My boss went on vacation right when the daycare has eleven kids total-not including 3 infants! Yeah, we have another assistant now but man... I get home just wiped and of course my step-kid doesn't understand the concept of quiet time! All well... Hopefully my chapter will be so awesome that my tardiness won't matter! **

* * *

Chapter 4: Tuesday, Day Four

"Bella, what has got your panties in a twist today?"

"Leave my fucking panties alone, Jake."

I never thought a Tuesday morning would suck so much. I got hardly any sleep again after my disastrous dinner with my dad.

A dad who did not call, text, email or send a carrier pigeon to me.

Another person who didn't email me was Edward.

I sat at my computer all evening, refreshing my email over and over and over again. I even checked my connection twice but everything was working fine.

I am _not_ the crazy stalker chick...

I emailed him and let him know that I was home early if he was around but I never got a reply. I eventually gave up and went to bed around midnight. When I still wasn't asleep by two, I got up and drank a glass of the wine that Leah gave me. It did help a bit but then I woke up with a headache.

"Why don't you take a break?" Jacob whispers in my ear as I struggle with the coffee grinder.

"No! I'm fine! I just need..." I trail off, not sure what will help this situation.

Well, I do but I don't want to admit that I'm relying on practically a stranger for my happiness.

"How about I make you a sandwich?" Jacob suggests. I sigh and nod, abandoning the grinder and heading to the office.

I sit down with a huff and check my email, but with no hope of anything new.

And I'm right.

I leave the office and head towards the dining area, stripping off my apron as I go. I sit down at a back table, away from the customers so I don't infect them with my sour mood, and put my head down on my arms.

"Excuse me, are you Bella Swan?"

I look up at the soft voice to find a pretty girl with long brown hair and square framed glasses looking down at me shyly. She's dressed simply in dress pants and a button up shirt with her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.

"Uh, yes I am," I say uncertainly. "Can I help you?"

"You're the owner, right?" she says with a smile and I nod. "I'm Angela Weber. I was wondering if I could apply for a position here."

I can hear the angels singing now.

"Yes, of course!" I say, jumping up. Her smile grows, as does mine.

"Great! Um, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything here," she says with a slight frown.

"No, not at all," I say happily, gesturing to the counter. "Let's go get you an application."

I basically skip behind the counter, Jacob looking at me curiously the whole time, and go into the office. I glance at the computer and my heart drops slightly. I slam the filing cabinet closed a little rougher than necessary and plaster a smile back on my face.

Fuck you, Mr. Annoying Foreign Absent Smarty Pants.

I hand Angela the paper and a pen and she cheerfully sits at a table to fill it out. I go right back to the difficult grinder, only to have it slide into place easily, and then look over to see Jacob staring at me.

"What?" I say.

"What's with the three-sixty, Miss Bi-polar?" he asks, handing my sandwich over slowly.

"Angela is applying!" I say in a whisper, taking the plate and grinning broadly.

"Hell yes!" Jacob says, attempting to be quiet, and fist-pumping.

I eat my sandwich quickly and pour out two cups of coffee. I arrange them on a tray with cream, sugar and two spoons and head towards Angela's table.

"Hi, I brought some coffee," I say, setting out the drinks and supplies.

"Oh, good!" she says, reaching for one of the cups. "I love the coffee here."

"You've been here before?" I ask as I add a bit of cream and sugar to my coffee.

"All the time," she says with a wave of her hand. She adds only sugar to her's. "I used to come every Thursday night for my book club."

"I remember you guys!" I exclaim. "Always good tips."

"Yeah that was me," she said with a nervous chuckle. "The others didn't feel it was necessary but you guys put up with us every week, it was the least we could do."

"Ah, I see," I say, sipping my drink carefully. "It was no big deal. There was hardly ever any mess."

"Uh, that's because I cleaned up a little before we left," she says, looking down with a slight blush.

"Really?" I ask incredulously. "That was nice of you."

"My friend, Mike, said it was stupid," she says with a shrug. "Said it was your job or something. I thought that was pretty rude."

"Wait, Mike? Mike Newton?" I ask and she looks up at me in surprise. When she nods I groan. "He's my employee right now."

"Oh, I shouldn't have said anything," she says quickly, looking horrified.

"No, no! I'm glad you did!" I reassure her. "To be honest, he's not really working out here."

"I'm not surprised," she says with a laugh, picking up her cup. "He hates coffee."

"What?" I say, my mouth dropping open. "One of the first questions I asked in his interview was how he took his coffee. His answer was 'black'."

"He can't stand the stuff," she says, shaking her head. "I have no idea why he would want to work here."

"Well, Angela, tell me honestly," I say, setting my cup aside and folding my hands on the table. "How do you feel about coffee?"

After taking a large gulp of coffee, she puts it down and smiles.

"Can't live without it," she says sincerely.

* * *

Eight-o-clock.

Where am I?

The couch of course.

What is sitting in front of me?

Left over meatloaf from a too-fancy restaurant and the remote.

On the schedule tonight?

New episode of Chopped on Food Network.

Oh and a meeting with a psychiatrist. I need help.

Ben sits rudely close, his eyes locked on my dinner, as I turn on the TV just in time to see the opening of Chopped. I recite the introductions along with the host, Ted Allen, and dig into my food.

Sadly, I finish my food before the show is half over. During a commercial break, I run to the kitchen for some water but then change my mind and grab the wine. I pour out a large glass and notice my laptop sitting on the counter, where I had left it.

After work, I came home and cleaned the whole apartment, to kill time before my show.

Who am I kidding? I was trying to distract myself from him.

I carted my laptop around all afternoon, trying to put it in different places where I wouldn't look at it. Why I thought the counter would work is over my head. I was cleaning in a coffee-induced high so my thoughts weren't quite right.

I drink most of the wine quickly and give myself a refill. And then another. I soon feel pleasantly fuzzy and warm.

I hear the show come back on and start to go back to the couch but instead, I torture myself with checking my email for the millionth fucking time.

Not a damn thing.

I growl loudly, scaring the shit out of Ben who takes off for the bedroom and hides under the bed. I can see his eyes glowing from beneath the edge of the comforter; he's most likely swearing at me in kitty talk.

I take my laptop to the couch and while I sort of watch the show, I browse the net.

For a Tuesday night, my Facebook friends seem fairly busy. A few are out with loved ones, others are staying in with the family. My mom posted that she and her new husband, Phil, were thinking of taking a cruise to Mexico. I hit the like button but really, I don't like.

I no like at all.

Okay, now I'm just sounding ridiculous.

And jealous.

Which I am, if I want to be honest.

I head to Google and start doing random searches for different celebrities and new coffee brews. And then I type in two words.

Edward Cullen.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I hit enter.

"Shit. Okay yes, I am the crazy stalker," I mumble to myself with a sigh.

I consider closing the window but at the top of the list, I see the name of his bar.

**Double E Bar**

**Owned by Emmett Cullen and Edward Masen**

**Chicago, Illinois**

**Click here for phone number**

My cursor hovers over the link to the number listed. I bite my lip and cross and uncross my legs, trying to decide what to do.

I could call him. It's barely after ten there so they should be open, right? Maybe I could just call, and hopefully they'll be closed.

Or maybe Emmett will answer and I can just innocently ask for Edward. If he was busy with someone, he'd tell me and I can hang up. And if he got hurt again...

Oh God, I didn't even want to consider that.

I take a few deep breaths and slowly reach for my phone.

Ben jumps onto my laptop and his little kitty paws press the mouse key, clicking on the link.

"Well, at least someone had the guts to do it," I mumble. "Thanks, buddy."

He purrs loudly and curls up next to me, putting one paw on my leg, almost as though he's giving me his support.

I take one final deep breath in, hold it and start dialing.

It rings.

It rings again.

I'm getting lightheaded.

Oh right, breathe.

I let out my breath just as someone answers the phone and then I gasp.

"You heard me, mate, bugger off! You've had your last drink!"

It's him.

Oh, God, he sounds so sexy.

"So sorry, hold on," he says into the phone, his thick English accent making me smile and blush.

I think about hanging up but then he speaks again, holding the phone slightly away.

"For the last bloody time, once you start falling off stools, you're out of here! Now, piss off!"

I giggle a little at his frustration; it's kind of cute.

"Yes, sorry to keep you waiting, Edward of Double E Bar speaking," he yells over the noise behind him.

"Hi," I breathe.

"I'm sorry, I can't... I can't hear you!" he shouts.

"Edward? It's... It's me."

"Yes, this is Edward, who—hold on." He holds the phone away again and yells across the room. "Oy, Emmett! I'm going into the office, mate!"

"I can call back, it's okay," I say, not sure if he can hear me.

"No, it's okay, just hold—wait, who is this? Is this..."

"It's Bella," I say in a small voice, my finger sneaking up between the phone and my cheek, ready to hit the end button at any moment.

"Wait, what? No... Bella?"

Damn, the way he says my name...

"Yeah, it's... it's me," I say quietly. Ben starts purring louder and kneading my leg with his paws. The combination of him and the wine calms me and I feel a bit braver.

"Is it really you?" he asks and then I hear a crash. "Aw, bloody hell!"

"Edward? Are you okay?" I cry, sitting up straighter and clutching the phone to my ear.

"Blasted... yeah, just tripped over a box." He's still having to yell over the noise going on in the bar but I distinctly hear a door squeak open before the sound is suddenly cut off. "Bella?"

"Hey, yeah, it's me," I say, my voice shaking slightly.

"But how did you—aw shit!"

I hear another loud bang and gasp.

"Shit, Edward, are you okay? What did you do now?"

"Uh, I missed the chair," he says sheepishly and I giggle. He laughs too and it sounds so soothing. "I told you I get that way around girls."

"But you can't see me," I tell him.

"But I'm still talking to you," he says and I hear the sound of a chair being righted as the wheels clack on the floor.

"And you said it was pretty girls that made you nervous," I clarify.

"And you're pretty," he says softly, making me blush.

"You don't know that," I sigh.

He chuckles quietly.

God.

I now understand those teenage girls that claim they swoon over a guy.

I've never been one to swoon... Until now.

"So, not that I'm not happy you rang but… how did you find my number?" he asks.

"Kinda easy to Google an establishment," I say with a laugh, but then I stop.

Fuck, I just basically admitted to stalking him.

"Huh, why didn't I think of that," he muses aloud.

"What, were you going to Google me?" I ask, smiling at the idea that he might consider looking me up.

"I should have," he admits quietly. "I've been dying to talk to you."

"To me? Why?" I ask, my voice doing this stupid squeak thing.

"A lot of reasons, really," he says with a sigh. "I was a little concerned when I didn't hear back from you."

"Hear back?" I ask, confused. "_You_ never emailed _me_ back."

"I did! Twice, actually," he says urgently and I can hear the sound of clicking keys in the background. "Yeah, two times, the last one was sent about an hour ago."

"But why…"

I look down at my email and groan. Next to the Spam folder is a number two.

Stupid technology.

"Yeah, looks like you did," I say with a sigh, clicking on the folder. "They got sent to my Spam folder. I'm sorry; I didn't even think to check there."

"It's alright, as long as you weren't ignoring me," he says with a nervous chuckle and then continues slowly. "You weren't… were you?"

"Wasn't I the one calling you because I thought maybe _you_ were ignoring _me?_" I point out, making him laugh again.

My God, I could listen to that laugh for hours.

"So, Bella…" he says, pausing.

Okay, his laugh and my name. If I had to die hearing anything, it would be those two things.

"So, Edward…" I say, mimicking his tone.

"I like that," he says, almost to himself.

"Uh, what?" I ask, getting up for more wine. Ben follows me out of the room, sniffing hopefully.

"The way you say my name," he admits softly and I blush. "Shit, I'm sorry, that was too much wasn't it. I'll just crawl into a bloody hole and die now."

"What? No!" I cry, spilling wine on the counter. "I mean, what's wrong with that? I… I like the way you say my name, too."

"You do now, huh?" he asks happily.

"Hey, don't get cocky here, mister," I scold him playfully, mopping up the spilled wine.

Ben is fully in the kitchen now, weaving around my legs and purring loudly. I roll my eyes and head to the cupboard with his food.

"Sorry, I'll keep my ego in check," he says, laughing again. "So, Bella, what are you up to tonight, besides calling up random bars hundreds of miles away all because you didn't get an email from some stranger?"

"Ugh, you make me sound so pathetic," I growl, putting down the scoop for Ben's food and covering my face with my hand.

"What? No, no, no!" he panics. "Shit, that was the wrong thing to say. Blimey, I just meant that… I mean that you… I was seriously about to do the same thing but…"

"No, Edward, its okay," I say, chuckling. "I was actually worried I was coming on too strong by calling you. You're right, you're a stranger, this is weird, isn't it?"

I can feel my eyes prickle with tears because of my stupidity. I turn around, with my back to the counter, and slide down to the floor. Ben saunters over and paws at my hand, meowing hungrily.

"Oh, God, Bella, please don't listen to me, I'm an ass," he says sadly, sighing. "See? I told you I'm a mess when it comes to girls."

"No, it's okay," I say, trying to hide my sniffle. Ben crawls into my lap and curls up, sensing my discomfort. "I'll just… I'll just go now."

"No, wait!" Edward shouts and I pause with my finger hovering over the end button and then I hear another bang. "Aw, bugger!"

"Edward, are you okay?" I ask, all thoughts of leaving gone.

"Yeah, the bloody chair broke," he grumbles. "I think I broke the wheel the first time it fell."

"You need to be more careful," I say in a small voice.

"Just, please… please don't go," he says, his voice soft and pleading. "I told you I'd muck this all up if we talked for real."

"Is it really okay that I called you at work?" I ask, scratching Ben's ears as he begins kneading my leg again.

"Yes, very okay," he insists and then sighs. "Can I admit to something?"

"Uh, sure," I say uncertainly.

Oh God, he's going to say I'm nothing that he expected.

He's going to say that I come off better through email.

He's going to say that I sound like an idiot.

Well, that's because I am one.

"Your voice is even more beautiful than I imagined," he says quietly.

"What?" I gasp, smiling. "No way."

"It's true, and I feel like a total ninny for telling you but I couldn't help it and—" he stops short when I giggle. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I say, stifling my laughter with my hand. "I think I may need to change your title to Grandma though."

"What? What did I… Oh my God, " he groans. "I said… ninny… blast… what the hell was I thinking? I'd completely understood if you didn't want anything to do with my… God, I don't even know how to describe myself. I'm really not that old, I don't know why I keep using that damn word!"

"How old are you, anyways?" I ask curiously.

"I just turned thirty last June," he says, still sounding upset with himself. "And I promised not to be a girl about it and gripe about the fact that I'm old now."

"Thirty is old?"

"Well… don't most women consider that to be old?" he asks cautiously.

"For one, I wouldn't know, I'm only twenty-eight," I tell him. "And I never really understood that fear of getting older. It's going to happen no matter what—I mean, unless you're the fucking un-dead, like a vampire or something."

"I haven't come across any vampires lately so I guess that option is out," he says pensively. "And you're twenty-eight?"

"Yes," I say slowly, my brow furrowing.

"Huh," he muses.

"Excuse me, Mr. Annoying Foreign _Rude_ Old Man Smarty Pants," I feign exasperation. "What is so interesting about my age?"

"Blimey, my name is getting long," he mumbles. I clear my throat and he continues. "Sorry! I just thought you'd be older… or younger."

"Yeah, because that makes sense," I laugh.

"Doesn't it?" he says, clearly amused—and relieved that I'm not mad. "I just meant that you're so clever… I thought you'd be older. And just my luck, you'd be younger, you're so cute and I'm like… ancient…"

"Uh, right," I say, blushing again.

We're silent for a moment and Ben glares up at me, obviously remembering what he had wanted me for in the first place. I stand up with a quiet grunt.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah, sorry, just getting off the floor," I say, hoping I won't have to explain my mini-meltdown.

"That's me as well," he says with a similar groaning sound. "Better pick my sorry ass off the floor before Emmett comes in to take the mickey out of me."

"Take the… what?" I ask, scooping out some kibble and freezing with it halfway to Ben's bowl.

"Taking the mickey, it means…" Edward stops to think for a moment. "Bloody hell, it means…"

"Don't think too hard over there, buddy," I tease.

"That's it!"

"That's…what?"

"Taking the mickey is when he makes fun of me," Edward explains happily. "I'm glad you weren't talking to me in person just now, you'd look at me like I was crazy—well, crazier—and I'd turn five shades of red like the… okay, I won't say that word again, once is more than enough."

"Technically, you said it twice, though one was in print form—ah, shit! Ben!"

Tired of waiting for his food, Ben knocks the scoop right out of my hand, spilling kitty food all over the floor. He pounces on it happily, chewing it as fast as he can, most likely hoping I won't take it and keep it from him again.

"Oh, sorry, do you have company?" he says, sounding sad.

"Why would you think… Oh! No, Ben is my cat," I say, half-laughing.

Way to scare off a guy, Bella.

"Oh good! I just thought… I mean, if you had someone over, I wouldn't want to keep you from them. You may have just meant to call for a few minutes, and here I am talking to you for… Blimey, it's been about twenty minutes or so. God, Emmett is probably going to try looking for me soon and I really don't fancy leaving yet and—"

"Whoa, calm down, Edward!" I interrupt his ramblings.

Totally cute ramblings.

"Sorry—"

"What are you sorry for?" I ask. "You're right; I called you because I wanted to talk to you. If you need to go…"

"No! I don't need to go," he nearly shouts and then mumbles, "Shit, ow."

"What's wrong now?" I sigh, heading to get the broom and dustpan. The fat furball on the floor sees and starts eating faster, his belly dragging along the tile.

"Just this blasted lip of mine," he says in a slightly muffled voice.

"Oh yeah, how is it doing?" Ben bats at my broom as I try to maneuver it one handed around the kitchen.

"Not bad, but I think I might have opened the stitches again." He pauses and then sighs. "Yup, my Kleenex here is not the color it should be. Damn. Back the emergency room."

"Is it… My fault it opened?" I ask sheepishly.

Geez, I haven't even met the guy and I'm already injuring him.

At the thought of actually seeing Edward in person, my stomach flutters and my mind wanders. I try to picture what he might actually look like but everything I come up with doesn't come close to matching that silken voice of his.

"No, actually, a customer threw a cardboard coaster at my face earlier," he murmurs.

"And… why did they do that?" I ask. Ben straight up lunges at my broom, biting at the hard bristles and hissing.

"He was just a drunken bastard I was trying to throw out," Edward explains.

"Was it the one you were yelling at when I called?"

"As a matter of fact, it was," he says with a laugh.

"Maybe I should let you go," I say sadly. "I wouldn't want you to get any more hurt."

"I hate to say it but I probably should leave," he answers, sounding just as bummed as me. "Can I ask one last thing?"

"Anything," I answer automatically.

"Can we talk again? Soon?"

The smile that spreads across my face practically hurts my cheeks. I do a silly little hop in place, making Ben scurry away from my broom to resume his chow down.

"Yeah, I'd really like that," I say, attempting to sound cooler than I am.

"Great! Fantastic! Can we exchange mobile numbers then?" he asks excitedly.

"Mobile?" I say with a snicker.

"Yes! Oh… Uh… What does Emmett call the damn things," he says, pausing before asking in an uncertain voice, "Cellular?"

"If you want to be real proper about it, yes, a cellular," I giggle. "But most people call them cells or cell phones."

"Oh, right."

"How long have you lived here, anyways?"

"I've been in the states a good three years but I swear, it's like learning another damn language just to make normal conversation," he says, chuckling.

We give each other our "mobile" numbers and then are quiet for a moment.

"When can we…" he says, breaking the silence.

"Talk again?" I finish for him. "Well, you can text me anytime."

"I wouldn't want to bother you," he says but I cut him off quickly.

"Anytime," I persist.

"Alright, then," he laughs. "Until next time, Bella."

"Yeah…" I say lamely, not wanting to use the word goodbye at all.

As though sensing my hesitation to use such a simple word, Edward speaks again.

"We don't have to say it," he says quietly. "Just… until next time"

"Yes, because there will be a next time," I sigh.

With one last melodic laugh, Edward hangs up.

I set my phone on the counter and let out a sappy sigh, staring dreamily at the ceiling. Looking down again, I see the mess covering the kitchen floor. Ben looks up at me, his eyes large and beseeching. I shake my head and lean the broom up against the counter.

"Better clean the whole floor up, big boy," I tell my cat before settling back on the couch, wine in hand and head full of thoughts of Edward.

* * *

**A/N: Wellllll? How did you think they're first call went? I kinda liked it! Well, I should... I did write it... But what did YOU think? That's what matters! But if you hated it, all well, cuz I'm the writer so what I say, goes! Ha! But seriously, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	5. Chapter 5: Wednesday, Day Five

**A/N: Do you know what makes updating really difficult? When you're working the daycare from 6:45 am to 5 pm and strain your wrist lifting the older kids (that should totally know better and listen when you say time out!) meaning using the keyboard is difficult. So, yeah. Injured/in a zombie like state for a week and a half. Not fun. And then I was sick yesterday but that gave me the chance to clean this up to give to you! I hope my lateness is overlooked... Still love me? I hope so...**

* * *

Chapter 5: Wednesday, Day Five

Wednesday.

I've been dreading this day since Sunday but excited for it since yesterday.

Today is the day that I start training Angela.

Yay!

Today is also the day that Mike comes back into work.

Boo!

Ugh, and now I sound like one of those giggly teenagers from one of those movies where they have ridiculously expensive cars and wear really slutty clothing to school.

I manage to get to work early, the combination of wine and Edward helping me sleep the night before, and open just a few minutes before Jake comes in. He seems just as happy as I am to get someone new, and hopefully brighter, working with us.

At seven on the dot, Angela comes in, her hair combed back again and a big smile on her face. This is always my first test of a new employee: Can they handle coming into work early?

And can they do it with a smile on their face?

So far, Angela passes both.

"Good morning!" she says cheerfully, already dressed in the black apron I had given her.

"Morning, Angela," I answer just as happily as I empty out the coffee grounds to make a new pot of coffee. "Thanks for coming in so early today."

"No problem," she says sincerely. "I'm totally a morning person."

Wow, nice change from Sir Hates-Mornings Newton.

"Awesome," I say, glancing over a Jake at the register who nods his approval. "Where would you like to start today? Usually, we begin newcomers on the register."

"Well, if it's alright with you, I'd love to learn the machines," she says quietly. "I actually know how to use a register. We had this exact same one when I worked at my last restaurant job."

"Sure, no problem," I tell her, stopping my work so I can explain what I'm doing.

Mike had been too afraid to go near the different mechanical things for days.

After I show Angela how to brew and grind coffee, I make a few simple drinks to show her what they should look like. I also let her taste each one, to make sure that she can properly suggest a drink to a customer based on what flavors they like. She asks plenty of questions and makes sure to ask me to repeat myself if she misses anything—though that only happens twice. After about an hour and a half, I offer her a break but she declines, stating that she should wait the allotted two hours required before taking her fifteen.

Can this chick get any cooler?

"Why don't you take a break," she suggests. "Jacob and I can get to know each other."

Yes, yes she can get more awesome.

"Yeah, boss, we've got this here," Jacob says from his spot behind the register.

I smile at the two of them and go into the office, closing the door behind me. I pull out my cell, to make sure it's fully charged in case… someone… wants to get a hold of me.

And lookie here, the little light is blinking.

I bring my phone back to life eagerly and see that a text message is waiting for me.

**_Good morning, Bella. How is your Wednesday so far?_**

I grin widely and type out a reply.

_Pretty good. Training the new girl and I may just have a tiny crush on her._

I start to put my phone away, figuring he might take a while to get back to me but before I can even set it aside, it lights up again.

**_I didn't know you, as Emmett puts it, "swing that way"._**

I laugh aloud at his comment, imagining the way he would have pronounced those words. I settle down into my office chair and prop my feet up on the desk.

_I might, just for her. She's just a really amazing employee so far. Puts Mike to complete and utter shame._

_**Oh, good. It's bad enough competing against other guys… I don't know if I could handle you deciding on a girl instead. **_

_Is someone… Jealous?_

_**Me? No, no, of course not! Okay, maybe a little.**_

_I promise, if I ever decided to "swing", you'd have an equal chance._

_**Are you saying I have a chance now?**_

_Hmm… Maybe._

_**You're such a tease…**_

_Oh, you don't know the half of it._

_**Bloody hell, I need to hear your voice again.**_

_Is that right?_

_**God, yes. I was starting to believe I may have imagined you… Or that you were a guy.**_

_And what made you think that?_

_**Like I said, I'm horrid with girls. It was just so… easy chatting with you. Though I still feel the need to give you the chance to run away now…**_

_Not planning on it. _

_**That's a relief…**_

_So you were saying you wanted to talk again? When were you thinking?_

Before I have the chance to wonder any longer, my phone starts vibrating in my hand, Edward's name lighting up the screen. I do this stupid, girly squealing thing and quickly answer the call.

I swear, I'm not a teenage girl.

"Hello," I say, trying to sound sexy and coy but my voice comes out as nervously breathless. I wrinkle my nose in disgust at myself.

Why do I bother trying to be sexy? I'm so not...

"Hello, there," Edward says smoothly, sounding relaxed. "I hope it's alright that I rang you. I just… couldn't wait."

"Yeah, sure, of course, I'm just sitting in the office, doing a whole lotta nothing," I say too fast, my nerves jangling.

Where's the wine when I need it?

"Good. I had hoped you weren't texting me while out assisting customers. I mean, it's not particularly appropriate to use your mobile while working—I mean, cell, not mobile. Not that I would think anything less of you if you did! We just don't here, so I wasn't sure if—"

"Edward! Breathe, please," I interrupt with a laugh. I hear him take a deep breath and shake my head. "Dear Lord, boy, you okay?"

"I'm fine, really," he says quietly. "I'm not sure how this was so easy last night."

"Same here—well, I do," I admit. "I had some wine to help me out."

"Ah, so you were talking to me smashed?" he asks brightly.

"Hey, I was only a little tipsy!" I insist. "You, sir, are the druggie."

"Only for a few days," he defends quickly.

"Speaking of which, did you end up going into the ER last night?" I ask with a cringe.

"No, the bleeding stopped and Emmett said that if I still went in that I was a… what did he say?" Edward pauses to contemplate. "A pansy? I don't see what a flower has to do with wanting to get medical care."

I snort loudly, covering my face with my hand quickly in hopes that he didn't hear but his laugh confirms it—he now knows how completely dorky I am.

I'll just crawl into a hole and die now, thank you very much.

"Did you just snort?" he asks in between his laughter.

"Maybe?" I mumble.

"Well, might I ask what was so snort-worthy?"

"What Emmett called you," I say, pinching my nose so I don't snort again as I laugh.

"I don't get it…" he says slowly.

"Oh, Edward," I sigh. "You really need to look for an urban dictionary so that you can understand our strange language."

"Do they make one?" he asks eagerly. "Bloody hell, would that come in handy."

"I think there's one on the internet but you can't be stopping conversations mid-sentence to run to the computer and check," I chuckle, picturing just that.

"So… he wasn't calling me a flower?" he asks, confused.

"Not really," I say, pausing to try to think of a way to get him to understand without insulting him. "What do you think of when you think of a flower?"

"That they're… pretty? Small? Colorful?" he answers, obviously still not understanding.

"This isn't working," I muse and then it hits me. "Oh! I got it! Tell me, what does the word 'ninny' mean?"

"Oh, God, I'll never live that one down, will I?" he groans.

"Just answer, Edward," I say patiently.

"It means you're... you're..." he trails off and I can just about hear the click in his brain as the pieces connect. "Aw, shit, I'm going to kill Emmett! He's been calling me that for years!"

"And you've never known what it meant?" I ask incredulously.

"No, I thought it was some weird nickname he had for me." He lets out a quiet growl.

Oh, kill me now, he just growled.

I just rhymed, damn it.

Sorta.

I hate when I rhyme.

Don't know why.

Damn again, that was...sorta... another rhyme!

"Bella?" Edward says softly.

"Yeah, I'm here," I answer swiftly, shaking my head. I look down at the clock and realize Mike should be coming in. "I hate to say it, though, but I should leave. The talented Mr. Mike Newton should be here any moment. _Should_, being the key word here."

"Ah, the rubbish employee," he laughs and I smile.

His British terms are so freaking cute...

"Can we chat later tonight?" I ask anxiously, not wanting to leave him already without the promise of talking again soon.

I am so hooked on this boy.

"I'm terribly sorry, Bella," Edward says sadly, making my heart drop. "But I was so eager to call you because I don't know if we'll get to talk tonight. See, my parents are having Emmett and I over for dinner tonight. They just got some new neighbors and wanted us to come meet them."

"Oh, that's fine" I say stupidly, trying to sound as if it's no big deal—which of course it is.

Well, I guess it's another night of Ben and I on the couch.

Who wouldn't wanna be me?

"Please don't be cross," he says quickly. "It was a last minute thing, and my mom really wants me to meet them, she said the couple is real nice and she wants us to meet their kids—well, they're grown now, but you know what I mean."

"Wait, their kids?" I ask skeptically. "Why do their grown children live with them?"

"Oh, nothing like that," he says. "Their parents just moved here but they've lived here for years. They just live across town or something. I met one of them once when I popped by my parent's house to borrow a book."

"Do you... know anything about them?" I ask slowly, picking at a stain on my apron.

God, Bella, just sound more pathetic than you are.

Wow, that's really saying something, isn't it?

"Not much, really," he says, sounding as though he's relieved that I'm not mad. "Only that she's about my age, newly divorced and her sister is tagging along."

Wait... _she?_

Newly divorced?

Something doesn't smell right.

Oh wait, that's the burnt coffee coming from the other room.

Must be a new record for Mike—he hasn't been here ten minutes.

But still, the jealous monster inside flares up at the mention of another girl having dinner with Edward. I know I don't have any hold on him—except for in my own head which is full of crazy, scary shit—so there's no rational reason for my reaction.

Yeah, I can say that all I want. Doesn't change a damn thing.

"Sounds like...fun," I say, standing up quickly. "Well, guess I'll talk to you when I can, I have to go back to work now."

"Bella, please don't be angry with me," he pleads. "If I could get out of this, I would, but I haven't seen my mum for dinner in ages and—"

"No, really, it's just fine," I practically snap at him. I knead my forehead with my fingers, willing this hot, angry feeling to go away.

"I'll text you while I'm there, I promise," he says swiftly.

"Just...whenever you can," I say quietly, sighing heavily. "Talk to you later, Edward."

"Bella, I'm sorry—" Edward is interrupted by a knock on his end. "Bugger, that'll be Ememtt."

"Okay, bye," I say, my voice slightly high pitched.

"Bye, Bella," Edward says sadly before hanging up.

I look down at my cell, now feeling guilty for the way I treated him. Obviously, he felt bad about not being able to talk tonight but why should he? He lives his own life, somewhere else...

Somewhere far, far away...

Might as well be in another galaxy.

Huh. Since when do I make Star Wars references?

There's a knock on my own office door and I throw my phone into my desk drawer as if I was caught looking at a dirty magazine. I open the door to find Mike standing there, a smile lighting up his face.

"Hey, boss," he says happily. "Guess you're here after all."

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? I mean, I do own the shop and all," I say, plastering a sarcastic smile on my face. His own falters slightly and I give my head a small shake. "What did you need?"

"I was wondering if I'd be able to get off work a little early tonight," he says quickly. "My buddy, Tyler, is in the Air Force and just came home on leave. We were hoping to go out for a few drinks. I figured since you hired Angela that she could cover."

"Mike," I say in an exasperated voice. "I _just_ hired her, this is her first day. I can't be letting her close up on her own. And I know that it's not really my business what you do outside of work but drinks? You come in at nine tomorrow."

"I'll only have two beers, I promise!" he wheedles.

"I'll... I'll think about it," I say, knowing I have no intention whatsoever of letting him out early.

Or not firing his ass if he doesn't come in tomorrow.

Okay, maybe I won't—I'm too damn nice for my own good.

"Fair enough," he smiles, holding his hands up and walking backwards.

"Mike! Where have you been?" Jacob calls out, making Mike spin around in surprise. "You were supposed to make that drink!"

"Oh, sorry, I was just talking to Bella," he says, jogging to the machines.

I roll my eyes and close my office door behind me, determined not to go back in there for anything other than work related shit.

The shop gets slammed within the next few hours, keeping my mind and my hands busy so that only the occasional stray thought about a certain Brit bar-man cross my mind. After a while, I get so caught up in smiling and greeting customers that my mood actually improves.

It helps that Angela turns out to be a star employee, never once missing a customer to smile at and making each drink to perfection. Mike can't keep up with her and gets stuck on clean up duty, mopping the floors and tossing the trash. He's surprisingly on top of it too—maybe I won't have to give him the boot after all.

In the afternoon, there's finally a lull. I send Angela and Jacob off to lunch while Mike and I hold down the fort. I'm sitting at the register, sipping my coffee, when the door opens.

In walks a tall guy with dark hair, wearing Air Force dress blues. He glances around the shop and sees me looking. I smile politely, which he returns before walking forward. I find myself staring at him as he heads towards me.

There's just something about a guy in a uniform... I've always had a thing for them...

Oh, am I drooling now?

How very professional of me.

"Hi there, welcome to Back to the Grind," I say cheerfully, standing up. "How's your day going so far?"

"Pretty lame...until now," he says smoothly, flashing his white smile and taking off his cap. I look down, slightly embarrassed. "What about yourself?"

"Not bad," I shrug, sounding surprisingly nonchalant. "What can I get you today?"

"A large, black iced coffee," he says and then leans forward to say quietly, "And maybe your number."

I freeze in the middle of reaching for a clear to-go cup and stare at him, wondering if I heard him wrong. I've had customers flirt with me before, but usually they're dirty old men or stupid college boys, looking for a quick fuck or a free drink. This guy, on the other hand, is total eye candy.

His crisp blue suit hugs his arms just right, showing off some toned arms. His face is clean shaven and blemish free with a slight tan color to it. His brown eyes are expressive and kind and crinkle slightly at the corners as he smiles at me.

"W-what?" I stutter stupidly. He grins again and runs his hand through his short hair and gets out his wallet.

"Seriously," he says. "I'd love to take you out while I'm in town. I could use an evening with a pretty lady."

I blush furiously, letting my hair swing forward to block the redness as I write his order on the cup—pointless, seeing as I'm the one going to be making it but I need to stall.

"Is that right?" I say, taking a deep breath and looking up at him with a sly smile.

"Only if you're free," he says with a shrug. "I would completely understand if you had plans already—or a boyfriend."

"Uh, no, no boyfriend," I mutter, taking his cash and punching it into the register.

My stomach flops, thinking of...

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he says seriously, lowering his voice.

"No, I'm fine, just trying to think of what I... had planned tonight," I invent wildly.

My thoughts go to Ben, the DVR, a big bowl of popcorn and wine.

Oh wait, I'm broke... Maybe some decent cheap beer if I can help it.

"Can I at least get your name?" he asks, putting his change into his wallet.

"Bella," I say, holding out my hand—though I hate fucking handshakes. They're always so awkward.

"Hello, Bella," he says, gripping my hand warmly. "I'm Tyler. So there's no one else?"

His hand is slightly calloused but his hold is comforting. Makes me wonder what a bar-man's hands could possibly feel like...

"Um," I mumble, my thoughts again going straight to...

No! A totally hot air man is asking you out, Bella! In the flesh! You can actually see him, touch him...

Shit, I wonder if he works out.

Oh duh, he has to.

"No problem," he says, sounding only a little defeated as he starts to walk away.

Don't be a fucking idiot! Say yes! Yes!

"Tyler!" I call out when he's already halfway across the room. He turns to me, a curious yet hopeful look on his face. I take another deep breath and smile. "I'd love to."

His smile grows and as he starts to walk back towards me, Mike comes out of no where, slapping him on the shoulder, making him turn.

"Tyler! Bro!" he says, grabbing his hand and shaking vigorously. "How's life, man?"

"Not bad," he answer, glancing back at me. I give a small smile and turn to make his drink, groaning quietly.

Just my shitty luck, the guy is friends with the biggest fucking idiot I've ever met. I sincerely hope that they're nothing alike.

Well, Tyler is in the Air Force... That's gotta count for something.

Something besides that sexy uniform.

I stand with Tyler's cup in my hand, my marker hovering over a blank space, debating whether or not to write my number. I stand there for a full two minutes, just staring...

And staring...

Fuck it.

I scrawl my number down, along with my name and a stupid little smiley face.

I walk over to the pick-up counter and cap Tyler's coffee. When I look up, he's standing in front of me, his hat on the counter.

"So, you're the Tyler Mike wanted to go out with tonight," I say, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, but I've already told him I'm not his type," he quips, taking the straw I'm holding out for him and twirling it between his fingers.

"I see," I nod, leaning against the counter. "I'm trying to figure out who would be his type..."

"I'm sure he'd like to say you," he says with a laugh. "He's always gone for the pretty girls way out of his league."

"Ah, but even if I went for...that," I say, waving my hand vaguely; Tyler smirks. "He has an unnatural aversion to coffee. We just wouldn't work."

"Good point," he nods. "I, on the other hand, can't go a day without it."

Almost to prove his point, Tyler inserts the straw in his cup and takes a big gulp.

"Well, are you two love-birds going out tonight then?" I ask curiously, fishing for whether or not he'd be calling tonight.

"Not sure what my plans are yet," he says pensively.

"The boy has work bright and early tomorrow," I say, crossing my arms, wondering if he'll take the hint.

"Ah, a tough boss," he says, leaning forward. "I like it."

He winks, making my turn red yet again, and picks up his coffee. He looks down at my number, smiles, and holds it up a little higher in a toast.

"Talk to you later, Bella," he says, picking up his hat and touching his temple with two fingers.

"See ya," I answer.

I can't help but stare as he walks away.

"Oh my God, Bella," Angela suddenly whispers from behind me. I turn around with a start.

"Shit, Angela, you scared me!" I complain, my hand at my throat.

"Sorry," she says quickly and then continues in a whisper. "But who was _that_?"

"His name is Tyler," I say softly, glancing back out the glass front doors. I can see him standing outside still talking to Mike—Mike, who was not excused for break. "He's friends with Mike."

"Oh, ew," Angela says, wrinkling her nose. "How could _that_ be connected with _him?_"

"You don't know him?" I ask, moving towards the coffee grinder to make a fresh batch. "I thought you went to school with Mike."

"Just a few college courses," she shrugs, rearranging the supplies and cleaning off the counters. "I heard him mention Tyler a few times, always talking about him coming home on leave so they could go out and get drunk."

"Sounds like the dream bro-mance," I grumble, looking back out at the two guys.

What I see is kind of curious... Mike is chatting away, his arms waving manically; he laughs every once in a while, slapping or punching Tyler on the arm each time. Though it looks like Tyler answers him whenever he can get the chance, the whole time Mike is talking, he's looking around, sipping his coffee, looking at his watch...

And every once in a while, looking at my writing on his cup and smiling.

I bite my lip, imagining myself with him. He seems nice enough, was able to keep up with my banter and clearly likes coffee—a total deal sealer in my book.

Without even trying, I start comparing him to Edward. The biggest difference is the way Tyler carries himself. He's so sure, so confident, even when being rejected. I've gone out with my fair share of men, ranging anywhere from annoyingly cocky to so self-conscience that I felt like I was in high school all over again. This guy seems to be right in the middle, just the right amount of self-assurance and humility.

"Well, if he were to ask _me_ out, I wouldn't complain," Angela muses. "He's at least nice to look at."

"That he is," I answer.

I start to wonder what Edward looks like. He said he wears glasses sometimes and that's really all I know. I could look up a picture of him... but I had already stalked him once to look up his number.

Maybe I'll just blame that on Ben, who actually clicked the number anyways.

I love talking with Edward but would we ever meet? He lives so far away that the chances are pretty unlikely. It's not like either of our professions have us traveling. And Tyler is right here, obviously interested in me.

Tyler suddenly looks through the door and I catch his eye. He smiles and nods; I return the smile and give a small wave, going back to my work and now thinking of tall, dark, dreamy air-men.

Might as well live in reality when I'm given the chance to possibly go out with a hot piece of ass like Tyler. What harm could one date do?

* * *

**A/N: Welllllll? Tell me tell me! Oh and I have a special surprise for the next chapter... Can you guess it? Only one person knows and she better not spill! You know who you are, lady! **


	6. Chapter 6: Wednesday, Day FiveEPOV

**A/N: I am so angry at myself for not getting this up sooner! I started it a long time ago, right after I finished Chapter 5 in fact, but had trouble finishing and then editing because of a certain bratty 6 year old step-son... Oh and because of two different problem kids at the daycare-both of which we had to let go-occupying my free time at work and tiring me out when I got home. It wasn't really cuz of them but their parents. Any mommy's reading this, please listen to your caregivers when they give you honest advice about your child and work with them! If you truly trust them to watch your children, why not remember that if they say there are problems, they mean it? Sorry, these parents just... yeah. They need to take a more active part in their children's lives. I understand not wanting to think their kids do any wrong BUT they're kids. It happens. Deal with it! Sorry again! I'm rambling here! It's been a rough couple of weeks. Anyways. Now this is a super long A/N... But I wanted to reassure everyone that this fic is indeed an E/B fic. No matter if other people are interested in them, they will never truly be interested back. They haven't even known each other a week and haven't met in real life- how are they to know at this point that it's gonna happen? Just have faith in me that I will not do anything despicable with these crazy kids. Also, many of you right away thought that when I mentioned a surprise I met a meeting. Sorry, but it's just too soon. Instead I thought maybe a different POV would be nice... Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6: Wednesday, Day 5—EPOV 

"Damn it!" I shout, throwing my mobile onto the desk.

"Whoa, angry Brit in the house," Emmett chuckles as he enters my room.

"Shut it, Yank," I grumble, lifting my glasses to rub my eyes.

"Dude, you're not wearing _that_ to dinner, are you?" Emmett asks in revulsion.

I look down at what I have on, confused as to why a simple plaid shirt and jeans is a bad choice. There aren't any holes in my clothes, they're clean of the smell of ciggies and beer. But then I look up at Emmett who's wearing a fitted black button up, designer jeans and his shiny black shoes.

"I apologize if I don't look like a male model today but my best trousers are at the cleaners," I snap at him, spinning my chair around to face him fully.

"Don't say trousers," Emmett complains. "Makes you sound like and old man."

"But I _am_ an old man," I point out.

"Ah, but not tonight when you have a date with Jane," he says, wiggling his eyebrows crudely.

"It's not a fucking date!" I cry, groaning loudly and burying my face in my hands.

"You know little Janie doesn't think so," he says under his breath, but I can hear him.

"Yeah, I know," I sigh, sitting back up and straightening my glasses.

I'm told that Jane has been dying to see me again since that day I stopped by my parent's flat to borrow a book. I had talked to her for a few minutes and she was polite but definitely too young for me, being a few years younger than Bella.

Ah, Bella...

I felt like total shit having to announce that I was going out with a different girl tonight. No matter what I saw it as, everyone else—obviously Bella included—saw tonight as a date. I could have lied to Bella, told her I was going out with some mates, since that's all I'll ever think of Jane as, at the very least. I was so nervous talking to her that day that I don't even remember what she looks like.

Bella, on the other hand... I could look up.

"Fine, I'll change my shirt," I tell Emmett, mainly to get him out of the room.

"And the pants!" he says, backing up. "Faded denim is _so_ last season."

"God, Emmett, are you sure you're not gay?" I ask, shaking my head. But it gets the reaction he wants as I let out an involuntary chuckle.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know," he says before winking and shutting the door behind him.

Emmett has always known how to calm me down. He's a good friend, even when he makes me go out with random girls.

Which, unfortunately, happens more often than I would care for.

I go to the bottom of my drawer and pull out a pair of dark jeans that I never wear as they are much too tight and then shuffle through my few nice shirts hanging in the closet until I find a solid green button-up. It's one that Emmett gave me when he was dating a super-model and wanted me to shag her friend.

As I change, I think again about Bella.

Only five short days ago, I met her by sheer accident but it may as well have been the perfect match. We got along so well, both in written and spoken word.

Until I had to open my bloody fucking mouth and tell her about Jane and Heidi.

I finally get a girl interested in my and I have to ruin the whole blasted relationship before it even starts.

I sigh heavily, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tug at my hair, contemplating putting some product in it but nothing works. It'll still be as chaotic as ever. I run my hands through it a few times, attempting to calm the mess, before giving up. I look a moment longer and decided to ditch the glasses. Mum likes me without them, anyways.

I pop in my contacts, grumbling at the initial lack of comfort, and then blink a few times before looking at myself again.

I have to admit, I'm not that shabby looking, if I do say so myself. High cheekbones, square jaw, bright green eyes... the few woman that have fancied me always go on about my features, claiming that the glasses hide them all.

I wonder what Bella looks like...

"Ah, damn it all to hell," I mumble, hurrying to my computer again.

I swiftly pull up Google and type in:

_Back to the Grind, Bella Swan, Seattle WA._

I bounce my leg nervously, feeling like she knows what I'm doing. I glance over my shoulder, listening intently to Emmett moving about the flat as he does God knows what he does before a date. I remember him once saying something about push ups being a must before leaving the house.

When I turn back to the screen, I see a long list of different sites that include all of the words I have searched for. At the top of the list is an article in the Seattle newspaper, dated a few years back. It's titled _Newest Cafe in the Heart of Seattle Celebrates 1__st__ Anniversary._

My heart is beating ridiculously fast as my mouse hovers over the link.

Why for the love of God am I nervous about clicking a bloody link?

I can hear Emmett's voice in the back of my head:

_Don't be a coward._

It's something he's said to me many times, always in a boisterous manner, and usually when it involves something silly like serving a flirty customer or creating a new drink.

Yes, I do get stupidly nervous about something as trivial as a mixed drink at my own bar.

I take a deep breath and hold it as I click.

I breathe out a big gust of air, my eyes bugging open and a smile spreading across my face.

Beneath the title of the article is a color photo of a slim girl, dressed simply in skinny jeans and a plaid shirt with a black apron around her waist. Though the sky behind her is cloudy and the ground is wet, she's smiling brightly, her arm lifted high to rest casually on the shoulder of the person next to her. I can't tell the color of her eyes but they're bright with excitement as her long ponytail sways in the breeze.

My smile disappears as I see the monstrous man standing next to her. He's much taller than her and almost as muscled as Emmett. His thick, tan arms are crossed over his chest, a similar black apron over his jeans, marking him as an employee. His bright white teeth contrast with his jet black hair and dark skin and I feel a twinge of jealously at the two of them together.

I sigh and scroll down to read the caption under the picture:

_Bella Swan, owner of the hit new cafe, stands beside her oldest friend and first employee_, _Jacob Black._

Oldest friend.

I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. I can't compete with this guy. Friend or not, he looks like he'd be her protector. If he found out what I did to her tonight...

"Yo! Let's jam!" Emmett shouts from the other room, making me jump.

I shut down my computer screen angrily, pissed with myself for looking her up before going out.

How in the world will I be able to concentrate on dinner now with her breathtaking image in my mind?

Emmett shrugs at my appearance and I roll my eyes, following him out to my Volvo.

The one thing I insist on when we go out is that I drive. The last time I let him take us in his jeep, he nearly rear-ended three people while he was too busy dancing to his music in the driver's seat.

It doesn't take long before we're turning onto my parent's street. Emmett grins broadly at me, obviously excited. I sigh heavily as I park and climb out.

Mum meets us at the door, pulling me into a warm embrace straight away. She smells like cinnamon and sugar; she must be baking.

"Edward, my love!" she says, holding me at arms length and studying me intently with her dark brown eyes. "You look peaky."

"I'm fine, mum," I grumble, rolling my eyes.

"Esme!" Emmett booms, pushing me aside to give his usual bear hug. Esme laughs as she pats his back.

"Hello, Emmett, good to see you too," she says cheerfully, only a slight hint of our home in her voice. "Let's head to the sitting room."

The two of us follow mum's swishing, caramel colored hair and I tense up, curious as to whether or not the guests have arrived. Emmett claps a hand on my shoulder, giving me a small shake.

"Relax, man," he whispers. "Just one night... you can do it!"

"One night, right," I mumble, my palms sweating and my heart racing. I wipe my hands shakily on my jeans, pretending like I'm just shoving them into my pockets.

We walk into the room to find five people—my dad, two beautiful women and an older couple. The girls smile at us, the smaller one sitting up straighter when she spots me. That must be Jane.

"Edward, Emmett," mum introduces us, gesturing to the people in the room. "This is Jane—" the tiny one with light hair "-Heidi-" the taller woman with mahogany brown hair and a smashing body "-and their parents, Aro and Chelsea."

I nod politely, my mouth too dry to form words.

The parents are an interesting couple, neither of them looking like their children except for the pale skin and the mother's body being much like her older daughter's. The man, Aro, has shoulder length black hair and the mother has light brown hair reaching the middle of her back. They all smile and nod as mum says their names. Emmett, always willing to break the ice, waves at everyone.

"Hey, let's get this party started!" he says, laughing loudly. I grimace but everyone else seems entertained by his boisterousness.

"I'll go get some drinks," Esme says, patting Emmett fondly on the arm. "Carlisle, come help me?"

"Right you are, Esme," dad says, his accent still just as thick as mine.

Emmett straight away bounces over to where Heidi is sitting, one leg draped over the other, showing off her toned legs. She runs a hand down her thigh, fingering the end of her short, bright red skirt. Emmett's eyes sparkle as he turns to her eagerly.

"Tell me, Heidi," he says smoothly. "What do _you_ do?"

"I'm a waitress for now," she says, sounding like she's purring. "But only until I can get my modeling career restarted."

Emmett's eyes widen slightly; he must be loving this—models are his favorite.

"Have I seen you anywhere?" he asks, leaning a bit closer to whisper, "Maybe in Sports Illustrated?"

Heidi giggles and I turn to her parents, horrified that their first impression of Emmett is going to be a bad one. But the two of them are deep in conversation about politics and I consider joining them until Jane speaks up, her high, reedy voice sounding almost childlike in comparison to her sister's deep, seductive voice.

"Come sit down, Edward," she says, patting the cushion next to her.

I give a strained, half smile and sit down stiffly next to her. She turns her body towards me, tilting her head to smile at me.

She really is quite pretty, though completely the opposite of the first person that comes to mind. Her hair is short and boyish, light tints of blonde mixed in with the pale brown. Her eyes are a slightly darker shade, a kind of hazel with a ring of green around the middle and set in a round, childish face. Her full lips purse as she considers my awkwardness.

"What did you think of that book?" she asks.

"Huh?" I say stupidly.

"The one you borrowed from your mom a few weeks ago," she says patiently.

"I-it was very nice, thank you," I stutter pathetically staring down at my hands twisting in my lap. I swallow convulsively, wishing for Emmett's bravery.

"Here you are, dear."

Mum appears out of no where, holding a glass out to me. I grab it gratefully and gulp down half of the gin and tonic mixture she's made me. It's not my usual but I know it's mum's idea of a "classy" drink. Though I work in a bar, I don't have a clue what that would be anyways.

Jane sips her drink, eying me curiously.

"You and Emmett own a bar, don't you?" she asks, setting her glass on the coffee table.

"Uh, yeah, Double E Bar," I tell her, my voice shaking only slightly now that I've had most of my drink. My hand quivers, making the ice cubes clink; I clutch it tighter.

"I think I've stopped by there after work before," she says, moving ever so slightly closer. "You made me a... Sucker Punch."

"Oh, the one that tastes like juice," I say knowingly, nodding at the memory. "Yeah, it's one of our most popular—and the easiest to get hard from."

"Excuse me?" Jane cries, choking on her drink.

"What? Oh, blimey," I groan, putting my now empty drink down and covering my face with my hands. "I forget, you blokes don't use that term that way... Uh...Shit..."

"It's okay, Edward," Jane laughs, putting a hand on my arm. "What does it mean?"

I sigh heavily, completely mortified and now contemplating excusing myself to the loo so I can make my escape.

Or fall into a hole, either way.

"Hey, Edward, are you talking about the Sucker Punch?" Emmett says helpfully and I look up quickly. "Man, that drink can get you plastered! I can't believe no one believes us about that. It may taste like a Capri Sun but it's basically all hard liquor."

He chuckles; Jane and Heidi join in and I smile weakly. My face is so red I feel like it's burning. I turn away from Jane, running my hand through my hair and wishing for something stronger in my glass.

I never feel this embarrassed when I slip up around Bella and use one of my foreign terms. Is it because I feel more comfortable around her? Or because I like Jane more? Maybe it's the fact that I can actually see Jane's expression when I make an utter fool of myself.

No matter, I'm an idiot around girls no matter how hard I try. In fact, sometimes I feel like the harder I try, the stupider I look. I sigh again and startle when I hear dad speak.

"Well now, I think we should all shuffle into the dining room," he says, picking up his martini and pointing towards the other room. "Shall we?"

We all stand, mum and dad leading the way, with Aro and Chelsea close behind. I hesitate as I see Emmett put his hand lightly on the small of Heidi's back, wondering if I should show more interest in Jane. She's very pleasant to be around, almost calming. She seems understanding of my inability not to look like a bleeding idiot.

Jane smiles up at me, standing on her tiptoes—she's a lot shorter than I thought, probably not even five feet tall—to mutter to me.

"Is dinner always this fancy?" she asks, humor in her eyes.

"Only when mum and dad want to show off," I sigh, knowing that's exactly the case. "They want to make a good impression on your parents, it seems."

"That's silly," she says with a shrug. "No one can one up my dad and his speed boat anyways."

I let out a real laugh and she smiles bigger, clearly pleased that she got a positive reaction out of me.

I'm still a nervous wreck at dinner and end up drinking more wine than usual so that I'm completely sloshed by the time dessert rolls around. I can feel mum's disapproving eyes on me throughout the night so before Emmett can finish his third helping of crumble, I nudge him.

"Sorry, ladies, but I think we should probably head out," Emmett says, shoveling down the last of his food. "Edward here has most likely already drank his weight in wine."

I'm too out of it to even grumble at him and instead stand shakily to my feet, clutching the back of my chair for support.

"Thanks, mum...dad," I slur, smiling sloppily. "It was a lovely dinner... excellent wine! And crumple, I mean crumble. Ha! I apologize... I don't do well with wine."

"It was nice to meet you two," Chelsea says, a hint of disapproval in her voice.

"I think we'll go too, if you don't mind," Heidi says, standing with her sister. "Janie and I were thinking of having a girls night tonight before I go to my photoshoot in Hawaii."

"Of course, dear," Aro says fondly. "Drive safely, please."

I let out a snort and stumble away from the table, Emmett holding my arm tightly.

"Let's go out for a pint, Em," I say when we reach my car. The whole yard looks wobbly.

"I don't think so, big boy," Emmett says sternly, holding out his hand. "Now hand over your keys."  
"Oh, no, no," I say, shaking my head—which makes me tip sideways into my car. I chuckle and pull myself back up.

"Alright, I'll just get them myself," he says, reaching into my jeans pocket with a grimace.

"Whoo! Watch your hands there," I say, holding my own up and giggling.

"Ugh, this is hopeless," Emmett groans, pulling his hand back out. "Who wears pants this fucking tight?"

I lean forward, my finger in Emmett's face and squint my eyes. I pause, forgetting what I was going to say.

"Bollocks," I finally say, and then break out into laughter again.

"Oh, geez," he mumbles.

"Need a hand there?" I hear Jane say.

"Jane!" I cry, throwing my arms out and causing myself to over-balance again. "I want to deeply apologize for my rude behavior tonight..."

"Oh, hush," she says, reaching her tiny hand into my pocket and easily plucking out my keys. She holds them up for Emmett; I lunge for them but he's too quick for me.

"Aw, bugger," I grumble, frowning.

"Get in," Emmett sighs, unlocking the car.

"Mind if we tag along?" Heidi asks as I plop down into my car.

"Only if you don't mind an annoying, shit-faced Brit," he answers, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Aw, come on!" I say, leaning out the open window towards the girls. "Let's all go down to the pub. I'll buy the first round of lager!"

Jane snickers at her sister and they both shake their heads.

"We'll follow you," she says, tugging at her older sister's hand.

Emmett starts my car and I groan as he grinds the gears, shifting it into reverse.

"Blimey, man, be careful," I complain, opening the glovebox and rummaging around. "You drive a manual, don't you know what you're doing?"

"Your car is fucking weird," he mumbles.

"_You're_ fucking weird!" I quip back, pulling out a smashed pack of smokes. "Aha!"

"Nice comeback," he snorts and then turns to me in outrage. "Dude! Put those away! You're supposed to be quitting!"

"Oh shut it, you gotta have a ciggy when you're smashed," I say, the paper cylinder dangling from my lips as I search the car for a lighter. I find one between the seats and light up happily.

"That is so sick," Emmett groans, rolling down the windows. The cold night air whips through the car. "Some people have died from that shit, you know."

"Fuck, I'm gonna die anyways," I mutter, blowing my smoke out my open window.

"And I'd rather not lose my best friend and my father all in the same year," he says seriously, turning to glare at me.

"Sorry, mate," I mumble, the comment sobering me slightly. I flick my smoke out into the night and roll up the window. I lean my head back and groan. After a moment, my eyes start stinging as the last of the smoke mixed with the frigid air irritates the contacts I have in. I grumble incoherently and clumsily take them out, throwing them into the drink holder.

"What's up with you?" Emmett asks after a moment. "You don't normally drink like this. It's usually my sorry ass you're dragging home."

"It's...nothing," I sigh, shaking my head slowly.

"It's never nothing when you binge like this," he points out.

"I thought it was something but really it's not," I say with a shrug.

"Dude, quit editing and just tell me," he complains, turning my car a bit too fast for my taste.

"Watch it!" I cry, throwing my hands out as he narrowly avoids a night-time cyclist.

"You gonna tell me?" he snaps.

"Alright, fine," I say with a sigh, running my hand through my hair. "I've been talking to... well, recently I've been... there's this girl."

"No shit!" Emmett yells, turning to me with glee. "A real girl?"

"As opposed to what?" I ask angrily.

"I dunno," he shrugs. "Okay, so a _real_ girl... where did you meet her? The bar?"

"Well, no," I mumble. "I accidentally emailed her."

"Wait, what?" he asks; the wheels of the car skid against the asphalt as he tuns the car sharply onto our street.

"I was trying to email Jessica," I say slowly, my muddled brain trying to recall the day. "And got the address wrong. It went to Bella instead."

"Bella," Emmett says with a nod, grinning stupidly. "I like it. So where does this Bella live? Here in Chicago? Please tell me she has a cute friend!"

"No, no, it's not like that." I shake my head again, making the whole car spin. "She lives in Seattle, Washington."

"Oh."

Neither of us say anything until we pull up to the flat. Emmett cuts the engine but leaves the lights on so that the girls can find us.

"So..." he says after a while. "Is she hot?"

"Emmett!" I groan, unbuckling and turning to stare blearily at him.

My drunkeness is already starting to fade into fuzziness but rather than being pleasant, I'm just annoyed.

"Sorry, dude, I was just curious," he says with a chuckle. "So is that why you didn't hit it off with Jane?"

"I dunno," I mumble, rubbing my eyes. "She's nice and all but... I just ticked off Bella telling her about tonight. She thought it was a date but-"

"Edward, it _was _a date," he says patiently, raising his eyebrows. "And now you are continuing that date by letting her over."

"Ah, shit and biscuits!" I cry, putting my face in my hands.

"C'mon, let's get you inside," he says, patting my shoulder roughly.

"But what about the girls?" I ask sadly, seeing their lights in the review mirror.

"Don't worry, big guy," Emmett says, pocketing my keys after turning out the headlights. "I'll take care of it. You just be your usual awkward self."

"That'll be hard," I grumble, leaning my head back in the seat again and sighing.

Outside of the car, I hear Emmett talking.

"Hey, girls, glad you found the place okay," he says.

"Yeah, it was only a little hard keeping up with you," Heidi says, giggling.

"Where's Edward?" Jane asks. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, but..." Emmett pauses and then sounds like he's trying to lower his voice but of course I can still hear him loud and clear. "He's not feeling so well."

"Oh no, is he barfing already?" Heidi asks, not sounding concerned at all.

"No, not that kind of sick," Emmett says, sighing dramatically. "More like he's... lovesick."

"Oh, God, Emmett," I moan, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Aw, poor thing," Jane coos. "Should we... go?"

"Jane, we just got here!" Heidi says impatiently.

"Yeah, but if Edward already has a girl..." Jane begins sadly.

"No, he'd feel bad if your night was ruined," Emmett reassures them. "Come on in, we'll all hang out and if he's too much of a bummer, we'll kick his ass out. Chances are he'll pass the fuck out soon anyways."

The three of them chuckle. I take a deep breath and turn to look when Emmett opens my door.

"All set, buddy," he says with a grin.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" I whisper at him.

"Just leaving your options open," he shrugs, still smirking. "If your thing with Bella doesn't work out, you'll still have Jane there."

"Emmett, I—" I start but he holds up a hand.

"Just saying," he says, turning his hand palm up.

I take it, needing the extra stability and let him lead me towards our flat with one arm thrown over his shoulder. Luckily, we live on the bottom floor. I glance blearily at the girls, my face reddening slightly at the sympathetic smile Jane gives me.

God, I'm such a sorry bastard.

Once inside, Emmett throws me unceremoniously on the couch, making my stomach churn. Seeing the green look on my face, he goes down the hall, grabs the bathroom bin and thrusts it at me.

"I will _not_ clean that up," he says, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like _I've_ never done that," I mumble. I clutch the bin for a moment but the feeling passes and I set it at my feet.

Jane sits down next to me, curling her legs beneath her as though she's completely comfortable here already. I shift nervously, reaching up to adjust my glasses when I realize I don't have them on. I look down at my hands stupidly, my brow furrowing as I attempt to remember the last time I had them on. Did I even wear them tonight?

"Oh, here," Jane says, leaning across me to grab them off the table by the couch. I shrink back into my seat and gingerly take them from her when she holds them out to me, giving me a blinding smile.

"Thanks," I mumble, chuckling nervously as I put them on.

Emmett and Heidi are cuddling together on the recliner. He reaches over her and flips on the stereo, putting on what he calls "mood music". The sound of soft jazz fills the room and I try to block out the giggling, barely resisting the urge to either cover my ears and hum like child or flee.

Fleeing sounds good right about now.

"So, Edward..." Jane says, turning her body towards me like she had at my parent's house.

My eyes dart to my bedroom door and back. Jane's eyes do the same and I bite back a groan.

I hope that wasn't an invitation.

"Yes?" I ask, my voice squeaking; I clear it quietly, my eyes on my lap. Tonight's activities have almost completely worn off and I'm fully regretting inviting her back to the flat.

"No need to be nervous," she whispers, sitting back just slightly. "I was just going to ask if there's anyone in your life right now."

"Well, um," I mumble, my eyes now on the lump in my pocket where my phone has been sitting silently all night.

Oh blast, I had told her I'd message her...

"Emmett mentioned there might be," she says, sounding a bit sad. "But that... it might not be working out?"

That last part is said hopefully and my stomach clenches at the thought.

"I had, uh, hoped it would work but I guess we... we just got into our first quarrel," I stutter, twisting my hands together.

"Aw, that's too bad," she murmurs. We both glance up at the sound of slurping.

"God, that's revolting," I grumble.

"Is there another room we could go to?" Jane asks quietly and my head snaps to hers. Her eyes are wide and innocent. "Just to talk—I promise."

"Uh, yeah, yeah sure," I say, standing up, swaying only slightly.

I grab the bathroom bin and hear Jane follow me down the hall; Emmett and Heidi are still tangled on the chair, connected at the lips. I point out my room and duck into the toilet.

After taking a well needed piss, I brace myself against the counter, staring at my reflection once more hidden behind thick lenses. I take them off again, now ignoring looking at myself, and splash some cold water onto my face. After patting myself dry and putting my glasses back on, I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door.

I come face to face with Jane, who is smiling once again. She holds up a handful of beers, none of which are mine, and nods towards my room. I shrug, giving a half smile and follow her.

I can't remember the last time I had a girl in my room so I stand in the doorway like the idiot I am, staring at my fidgeting hands as Jane moves about my room.

"Wow, so many books," she says softly; my bed creaks as she sits down.

"I... I like to read," I mutter, looking everywhere but at her. My palms are sweaty again, as is my face, making my glasses slip down my nose. I push them back up, feeling totally out of place in my own room.

"Cool," she says and then laughs quietly. "You can sit down, you know. It _is_ your room."

I nod once and walk stiffly to my computer chair, sitting down so fast that it nearly topples over. I look to Jane, red-faced, but she's busy cracking open two drinks. She hands one to me and it nearly slips through my damp hands. I chug half of it down—much like I did before dinner—and am surprised to see her do the same.

"It's been a while since I've had a decent brew," she says in approval, sighing and nodding at her drink. She takes another drink and lies down on her stomach, kicking off her shoes and tilting her head to the side. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure, fine," I say, too quickly. My eyes travel to the sleeping computer on my desk beside me.

"Do you wanna talk?" she says softly, sipping her drink again.

"Uh," I mumble and down my beer. I catch up another one from the few on the floor and take a swig. "Not much to talk about."

"You don't wanna talk about... her?" she asks slowly.

Can't this girl speak bloody English? Wanna... gonna... oh bugger, the beer is kicking in.

"Not particularly," I say, suddenly remembering that I normally tend to get angry when I drink Emmett's beer.

"That's okay, we don't have to talk."

I look up to see her trailing her finger around the opening of her bottle. Her eyes roam around my room as she casually drags her finger down the side of her bottle, catching the condensation dripping there, and then runs her finger down her chest. Into her cleavage.

Bloody hell.

I don't fancy this girl the way most men probably do but fuck me, if that wasn't hot.

She does it once more, closing her eyes and humming contentedly and I close my own eyes, imagining a different pair of hands doing the same.

Bella's.

I imagine her pale, slender hand gliding over her collarbone, sweeping a long, brown ponytail over her shoulder. I want to know what she looks like with her hair down. I picture her eyes opening but because I don't know the exact color, they're dark and lifeless.

I try to think what color they may be. Brown like her hair? Bright blue to offset her dark features and accent her light skin? Or maybe pale gray to match the stormy skies behind her in the photo I had looked at?

But after tonight, I may have pissed her off so much that she may never speak to me again.

And I may never know.

I growl under my breath, but it's still loud enough that Jane hears.

"What's wrong?" she asks and I look to see her light brown eyes trained on me in worry.

"Nothing," I sigh, running my hands through my hair. I finish off the beer and grab a third, knowing I'll regret it more than I already am come morning.

I see that Jane has already started her second drink as well. I'm guessing she'll be as tossed as I am soon and judging by the sounds coming from the other room, not only will she not be leaving with her sister tonight, but I'm going to need to pour bleach into my brain to erase the images of the activities happening just one room over.

Emmett, you horny bastard...

"Whew, I think I'm getting pretty lit here," Jane says with a quiet laugh.

"Y-you can, uh... you know, crash here, I guess," I say, rushing to correct myself. "I mean, not with like, w-with me, but uh... I can sleep... on the sofa, I guess, and you can take the bed, I don't mind at all, as long as you're comfortable and uh..."

"Edward, it's fine," she giggles, her tiny hand covering her mouth. "And do you really want to go out there right now?"

She jerks her thumb over her shoulder at the living room; a loud scream sounds from her sister. Both her and Emmett laugh as Jane and I wince.

"I see your point," I say with a sigh. "But, please... take the bed."

Jane shrugs and we lapse into silence.

Well, as silent as it can be, what with my flatmate being home.

"Do you have any music?" Jane asks suddenly.

"Yes! I do," I say quickly, tapping my keyboard to bring my computer back to life.

My stomach clenches at the image still displayed on my screen. Bella and her... friend... smile back at me and I quickly click the screen closed. A few more clicks later and I bring up my music—classical, an attempt to calm my nerves.

"Piano, huh?" Jane asks.

"DeBussy," I answer. "Do you know him?"

"Can't say that I do," she says, picking up another beer.

I frown, disappointed that she's not interested in at least the same music.

And wondering if maybe someone else is...

"Edward, you're so tense."

Suddenly, Jane is behind me and my shoulders go rigid as I feel her hands on them. She gently rubs and squeezes, trying to work the kinks out but it only makes it worse.

"Uh, Jane?" I manage to squeak.

"Shh it's okay, Edward," she whispers in my ear. She runs her hands down my arms, making me flinch.

"J-Jane?" I try again and she shushes me once more.

Now my blood starts to boil. Emmett's beer really does do strange things to my system.

"Jane, I would like you to stop," I say through gritted teeth; my hands are balled so tightly that I can feel my nails cutting into my palms.

But she doesn't seem to hear me as she lightly kisses my neck.

"Mmm I'm so drunk," she purrs, sliding onto my lap with her arms around my neck. "And horny."

She giggles and that only makes me see red.

What is with these sisters?

"No!" I say loudly, standing up so that she plops onto the ground.

"Oh!" she says softly as her arse hits the hardwood floor. She looks up at me reproachfully

"I'm terribly sorry, but..." I groan, running my hands through my hair, no doubt making it look even wilder than before. "I'm just not interested."

"Is it because of her?" she asks, her eyes narrowing.

"God no," I say quickly, making her glare harder. "I mean, you're lovely but I'm not looking to... get any."

My anger is swiftly replaced with embarrassment as I try to use Emmett's odd terminology. I tangle my fingers together and look around the room.

"Was that... was that right?" I ask uncertainly.

"Yeah," Jane huffs, standing up and brushing off the seat of her pants.

"I know I'm sounding like a rude git but I really don't think—"

"That I should stay here?" she finishes for me. "Yeah, I get it. I'm out."

She gathers up her purse and shoes and starts for the door.

"B-but how will you... you know, get home?" I ask, wondering where Emmett put my keys.

"I'll call a cab," she says, looking at me like I'm stupid.

"Oh... right... well..."

"See you, Edward," she says, clearly annoyed.

"Bye," I say to the empty room as I hear the front door slam.

Heaving a deep sigh, I go back to my computer chair, digging my mobile out of my pocket. I stare at it, willing my drunkeness to go away so that I can call her.

Though I haven't a bloody clue if she'll answer or not.

I put my hand up into my hair again, tugging on the strands. I don't have the slightest what to say but it's worth a shot.

For inspiration, I pull up my internet browser and go into the history. I find the article on Bella I had been reading and scroll down to look at her beautiful face once again.

"Alright, you stupid Brit," I mumble to myself. "Just get it over with."

With shaking fingers, I locate Bella's number and press the call button.

* * *

**A/N? Well? Did I do good? I had a hard time thinking up as many Brit terms as I could because, though some of you have asked if I am, I am sadly not British. I take that as quite the compliment though! I do watch a lot of British movies/actors interviews and I adore the way they speak and the odd terms. I had Rob's voice in my head throughout this whole thing. Mmm... It was nice... Sorry, I'll quit drooling and ask once again... what do you think?**


	7. Chapter 7: Thursday, Day Six

**A/N: I know, I know... I'm horrible. It's been WAY too long. I hope you still love me! The wonderful SUNFLOWER3759 makes sure to message me every once in a while, probably to make sure I'm still alive... and to see if I'm moving along. But mainly to make sure I'm still breathing, I bet. I've been working lots (no surprise there!) but the kid is starting 2nd grade soon so I will get more free time! Yay! Okay, enough yapping... on with it!**

* * *

Chapter 7: Thursday, Day Six

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"What the fuck?"

I sit up straight in bed, my hair covering my face in a tangled mess. I sputter, spitting out strands as I brush it away impatiently, and then reach towards my blaring alarm clock. I can't quite get to it but when I stretch farther, my legs get entangled in the covers and I fall to the floor with a loud _thump._

"Ow, shit," I complain, rubbing my arms where they hit the ground and reach up to slap the clock.

Which reads six thirty.

"Oh, ow..."

My head is pounding so I slide back onto the floor, dragging the blankets down with me. I cover my face with the thick fabric, moaning in pain as I try to think of the night before.

Clearly, there had been plenty of booze involved.

I cross my arms on top of the blankets and over my eyes. There was no way I was able to get _this _drunk off of the cheap beer I had been planning to buy.

And then it hits me.

Tyler.

"Bella?"

There's a soft knock on my door.

_What the fuck? Tyler?!_

"Bella, are you okay?" he asks, tapping a little louder.

"Uh, yeah, yeah I'm cool," I say, ripping back the blankets to see what I'm wearing.

I gasp.

I'm wearing nothing but my top—no bra beneath it—and panties. I look around and find my pants on the floor by the foot of the bed and my heels—which I never wear unless I'm trying hard, which apparently I was last night—are near the door. I twist around, making the covers bunch up around me and find my bra flung across the room by the window.

"Can I come in?" Tyler asks hesitantly.

"Well, um..." I hesitate, feeling weird about having a boy in my room but then figure he was probably already here. I sigh and answer in a defeated voice, "...sure."

The door slowly creaks open, the light from the living room filtering in and piercing my eyes. I squint, pulling the blankets up farther and shielding my eyes.

"Fuck, shut the damn door," I grumble at Tyler's shadow. He chuckles and pushes the door until only a sliver of light shines through.

"Hey," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Hey," I mumble back, looking up at his amused expression. "What?"

"I heard a noise, just wanted to check on you," he says with a shrug.

I open my eyes a little farther, noticing that he's standing there in just a white undershirt and his slacks from the night before. He's barefoot and looks fuck-hot.

Oh shit, what did we do?

"Bella, are you sure you're okay?" he asks, concerned. He kneels down in front of me, reaching out to touch me, but drops his hands when I shake my head.

"What the fuck happened last night?" I ask, closing my eyes as my movements make my head hurt more.

As if that were possible. I feel like my brain is going to explode.

"You... don't remember?" Tyler asks. When I grimace at him he smirks. "Well, I'm sure you've already figured out there was a lot of drinking involved."

"Yeah, so why aren't you looking and feeling as glamorous as I am?" I ask irritably.

"Oh I drank—but in moderation," he says, his voice full of humor.

"Okay, my brain is _not_ working this morning," I moan, rubbing at my temples. "Just... tell me."

"All right," he says, letting out a quiet laugh. "We went out to that fancy new restaurant in town—and in case you don't remember me saying it last night, you looked fantastic—and you proceeded to order wine. Many... glasses of wine."

I groan and cover my whole head with the blanket.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask, my voice slightly muffled by the fabric.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

"I'm assuming I either ordered the really expensive shit or just drank way too much," I clarify, heaving a sigh at the thought of how much money I'll have to fork over. "It wasn't fair of me. So... how much do I need to pay you back?"

"Bella," Tyler says in a hurt voice, tugging at the blanket. I let it slide down, feeling my hair getting even wilder than before. "It was a date. I offered to pay."

"But..." I start, fidgeting with the corner of the blanket.

"But what?" he asks softly, brushing the tangled hair off my face.

His touch actually feels nice.

"Nothing," I sigh. "Tell me the rest."

"Oh, you mean after?" he asks with a snicker. I look up and glare at him. "Well, when you started inviting other tables to sit with us and 'par-tay', I thought it would be time to leave."

"I seriously..." I look at him with wide eyes, completely mortified. He nods and I groan, dropping my head down.

"Once we got back here, you uh—" he pauses and clears his throat nervously. "-you invited me in and... well, your hands were all over me... and you started to drag me to the bedroom..."

"Oh God!" I moan, putting the blanket over my head again. "I'm the worst first date ever! Or the best... I don't know... Do I wanna know? No, don't tell me. I can't stand myself right now."

I stiffen—and wince—when Tyler laughs loudly. My face is so hot, both from the embarrassment and the lack of air under the blanket that it's getting uncomfortable, but I can't bring myself to move.

"Bella, it wasn't like that," he says between laughter. "Very PG-13 stuff. Nothing below the belt."

"Yup, I'm a horrible first date," I mumble in confirmation. I pause and then ask, "And uh... your hands were...?"

"Only trying to keep you from falling," he says seriously. "I promise. I was raised to be a gentleman. I don't think I've ever even kissed a girl on the first date."

I let out a quiet snort but moan when my head throbs again.

"But that doesn't explain my lack of clothing," I mumble, remembering my pants on the floor.

"Well, that was completely your own doing," he says slowly. "When I finally got you into bed—to sleep—you started grumbling at me and eventually said 'I don't want my pants on anymore' and flung them at me before passing out on the bed."

"And my, uh... my bra?" I ask hesitantly, peeking out at him.

Tyler looks around and spots the black lace on the floor. His forehead crinkles in confusion.

"Huh," he says finally. "Dunno how I missed that one. So... did you want to go back to sleep?"

"I don't think I can now," I sigh. "I'll just lay down and...die."

"That bad, huh?" he asks, his voice shaking with laughter again as I cover up my face.

"Don't let that keep you from going back to sleep," I tell him and then rip the blanket off my head, a sudden realization occurring to me. "Wait, what are you doing here still?"

"I wasn't planning to stay," he explains. "But you were actually pretty upset last night."

"I was?" I ask blankly.

I try to think back again but it hurts so I stop, waiting for Tyler to continue.

"Yeah, you uh... mentioned someone," he says lowly, glancing down.

"I... I did?" I ask, mortified what I might have mentioned...

"Who's Edward?"

I freeze, watching Tyler warily. He looks back at me steadily and the semi-darkness combined with the pounding in my head makes it hard to read his expression.

"He's... no one," I mutter. I look down at the blanket wrapped around my waist, pulling at a stray thread.

"Then why were you so upset about him not being able to call you last night?" he asks quickly, his voice filled with hurt. When I don't answer, he says in a stern voice, "Bella?"

"He's really no one," I blurt out, dropping my hands down roughly in frustration. "I mean, I don't really know him. We met by accident and I thought maybe we had something going but we... don't. Which is fine. I don't even like him. So, yeah, he's no one."

"You don't, huh?" Tyler says skeptically. "So, last night when you sat and stared at your phone for twenty minutes chanting _please call_ the whole time, it's because you do _not_ like him?"

"Yes," I say defiantly, lifting my chin. But Tyler sees through it.

"And why don't you like him anymore?" he asks, his voice full of humor again.

"He went out with another girl," I mumble, dropping my head.

Because the shit is about to hit the fan in three... two...one...

"But so did—oh," Tyler says and when I chance a look up at him, even in the dark, I can tell he's frowning. "I was payback, wasn't I?"

"No! That's not it at all!" I insist.

"It's fine, Bella," he says sadly, starting to stand.

"No, please, stay," I say, grabbing at the bottom of his pants to pull him back down. He kneels down again, a bit reluctantly and still poised as if to spring away. "I really do like you, but maybe I'm just not ready to date right now. And I mean anyone."

"Even... no one?" he asks, a hint of hope in his voice.

"Even no one," I clarify, smiling at him in the darkness.

"All right, drunkie, let's get some coffee in you," he says with a laugh, standing up and holding out his hand.

"You made coffee?" I gasp. "When the fuck did you get up?"

"I'm a military man, I'm used to getting up early," he laughs, helping to tug the blanket tightly around my body to hide my bare bottom half. "It's a blessing and a curse."

Once in the living room, Tyler shoves me toward to couch. I frown at him and plop down, watching him move about my kitchen easily.

"Did you snoop around while I was sleeping?" I question, eying how he goes straight to the correct cupboard that holds the mugs.

"Hey, if I don't have coffee in me within the first half hour of waking up, things get ugly," he says, giving me a serious look.

"I totally understand," I sigh, groaning quietly at the pain in my temples.

After a few minutes, Tyler sits down next to me, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. He was sure not to add any cream or sugar so when I take a careful sip, it's good and strong. I sigh contently and then see him holding his palm out with two Asprin sitting there.

"Oh God, yes!" I say, scooping up the pills and downing them with the glass of water he gives me. He chuckles quietly as I lean my head back.

We sit silently, drinking our coffee. My head is slowly going from about to explode to barely throbbing. I know I should get some food in me, but I'm too worried I'll just throw it right back up.

I glance over at Tyler to see him pensively staring into his half empty mug. There's a small crease between his eyes as though he's thinking hard about something.

Oh shit, this doesn't look good...

"Um, something wrong?" I ask quietly.

"Just wondering..." Tyler says into his drink, "Why did you agree to go out with me?"

"Well, um... you seemed nice?" I say, my answer idiotically sounding like a question.

"Nice," Tyler repeats with a sigh.

"No, no, I mean I could see myself with you, in some way or another," I clarify, tucking my feet under me and turning to look at him. "You're not a complete asshole, as far as I can tell, and you don't think you're the shit. It was a nice change after all the jerks I've met in the past. Please, it's a compliment... really."

Tyler sighs again and turns to me. I push out my lower lip and give him my best puppy dog eyes. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. I scoot a little closer, resting the mug clutched between my hands on his arm.

"So, can we at least be friends?" I ask tentatively.

"We should be much more than that," he says, turning to me with a solemn face. I bite my lip and he says, "Just friends don't clean up barf. I better be like your... B.F.F."

I bust up laughing, snorting attractively and sloshing my coffee all over my lap. Tyler laughs with me, jumping out of the way of my spillage. But when what he says gets through to my brain, I gasp, tears in my eyes—tears that may soon change from being caused by uncontrollable laughter to complete and utter mortification.

"Oh shit, did I barf?"

"Well, you made it to the bathroom," Tyler says, but then when he sees my cocked eyebrow he continues. "But not quite to the toilet."

"Holy fucking shit, I need an award," I cry, putting my mug safely on the coffee table. "No, two awards! Worst First Date in the History Of First Dates and Worst New Best Friend of the Year!"

I hop up from the couch, totally pissed at myself.

"Bella, sit back down," Tyler says, amusement once again in his voice.

"No," I say stubbornly, crashing around the kitchen.

"And why not?"  
"I'm making fucking pancakes," I shoot back, grabbing a pan a little too forcefully from the cupboard and sending all the other pans crashing onto the tile floor. "Shit!"

Tyler comes rushing into the kitchen to find me hopping around, trying to protect my toes from injury. In my panic, I drop the blanket I had been holding to my mid-section. It pools around my feet and when I try to jump away from a tumbling soup pot, I slip on it. My feet fly from under me and I scramble to right myself, reaching out for the counter and completely missing.

I let out a small shriek of terror just as a strong, warm hand wraps around my upper arm, keeping me on my feet.

"Are you okay, Bella?" Tyler asks, searching my body for harm.

I blush instantly as I look down at my nearly naked body.

Well, at least I'm wearing plain cotton panties instead of the lacy thong that matches the bra I had been wearing.

"Bella?" Tyler asks again, his eyes now on mine—or trying to be, but I'm looking straight down at my shaking knees.

"Yeah, fine," I manage to squeak out.

"Hey," he says softly, lifting my chin with two fingers. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. I have two sisters, ya know."

"You can think of me as a sister?" I ask doubtfully.

"I'll admit, I do find you much sexier than my sisters," he says with a shrug; I give a small smile. "But yeah, nothing more than that."

"We barely know each other," I point out.

"Yes, but when you move around as much as I do, you learn to make good friends fast," he says, reaching down and picking up the blanket. He wraps it around me again, his hands lingering briefly at my hips.

"How long are you here for?" I ask, watching him begin to gather the fallen pots. I better stay safely out of the way.

"Three weeks," he says sadly.

"Does that mean that if last night had gone well, that it would have only been for a few weeks?" I ask quietly.

"Honestly, I never got that far in my mind," he says, placing a large pan on the stove. "I just knew I... had to see you again."

I blush and look down again. My eyes flicker up to see him smiling down at me, his hands in his pockets. His grin gets wider and I roll my eyes, reaching out to slap his stomach playfully.

Well, hello there, six-pack.

"All right, new best friend," I say. "Make yourself useful. I'm assuming you already know where my pancake mix is."

"But of course!" he says, striding over to the correct shelf. "What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't know my way around your kitchen?"

Tyler and I spend the morning making pancakes, drinking coffee and just getting to know each other. He's even sweeter than I thought; funny as hell, smart—and a smart-ass. The comments he makes about my huge stack of pancakes would make most girls angry, but I'm confident in myself enough to know he's just giving me shit.

"Damn, Bella, how many pancakes do you plan to eat?" he chuckles as I shove another syrupy mouthful in. "Are you trying to see how many you can eat before you puke?"

"Hey, I need to soak up all the wine with _something_," I say, waving my fork at him. "You, sir, are probably going to have to do about a million push-ups to work off how many _you_ ate."

"Eh, I'm going to have to do them anyways," he shrugs and I look at him questioningly. "I was supposed to go into the office about an hour ago. There will be hell to pay when I make it in."

"What?" I gasp, dropping my fork. "Tyler, why haven't you gone in? Won't you get fired?"

"No, no, it's fine," he laughs, shaking his head. "And no one really gets fired in the Air Force unless they seriously fuck up."

"Oh really? Know anyone who has?"

"There was this one guy that didn't like the new sergeant in charge," he explains. "So, he punched a wall locker."

"What happened?" I ask, leaning forward.

"Well, he lost that fight," he says, shaking his head. "Broke his hand in two places. He was out for weeks; he got stuck working at the Base's gym."

"That doesn't sound too bad," I shrug, taking a sip from my fourth cup of coffee.

"Naw, the job was decent and he was allowed to work out whenever he wanted, as long as he made it back to the desk to sign people in and shit."

"But... did he?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," Tyler laughs. "Didn't do shit, gained like five pounds—which is a lot when you're in the military—so when he was back on duty, he couldn't keep up."

"I bet that didn't fly," I say, shaking my head at the dumbass.

"Not really, no. He was a rank above me, but was so far behind that he had to do a training session with me and my guys. We went on a five mile run and he kept falling behind. The sergeant—the one he hated—was in charge of the run and when we stopped for a water break, he demanded this guy get carried."

"No!" I say, laughing. "I feel bad for that guy having to carry his fat ass."

"That guy was me," Tyler says, shaking his head at the memory. "About a mile in, and I was fucking drenched in sweat, my arms were shaking like crazy... I knew I was going to hurt the next day."

"Well, duh," I say, rolling my eyes. "What happened next?"

"We stop for another break," he continues. "And he says to me, '_Dude, I can do this... let me run.'_ I told him no way, I wasn't about to get _my _ass in trouble, too. He got pissed; the sergeant heard us arguing and demanded I keep carrying him. And do you know what the stupid fuck did?"

I shake my head, taken aback by his intensity.

"He runs the opposite way!"

"What?" I ask. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he says with a chuckle. "Of course, I had to run after him—sergeant's orders"

I nod knowingly.

"What happened when you caught him?" I ask.

"I almost had to carry him back. The fucker was already in enough trouble as it was, why make it worse? It took ten minutes, the whole group waiting on us the whole time, until he finally agreed to finish the run."

"Shit," I breathe. Idiot.

"Yeah, he ended up getting discharged, and get this... he wanted _Honorable_ Discharge."

"But don't you normally get that for being, you know... awesome or whatever?" I question.

"Oh, hell yes. This guy thought that just going to Iraq was enough."

"It wasn't?"

"He was there for three months and spent the entire time on Base, running the computers," he scoffs. "Basically zero danger there."

"Wow. What did he get then?"

"General Discharge. Lucky bastard."

"So the point of this long story is... you won't get fired for slacking off?"

"I'll make up some excuse," he shrugs, pushing his plate away. "Listen, why don't I clean up while you shower?"

"No, you go first, I should clean up my own mess today," I insist, standing with one hand at the blanket around me.

"And risk another pot avalanche?"

"Shut up," I grumble. "Fine, I'll go first."

I take a long shower, using up the last of my body wash and washing my hair twice. My head feels nearly normal when I finally step out to towel off.

A soft meow makes me jump and I look down to see Ben crammed behind the toilet.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I ask, bending down to scratch his ears. "Has my lack of friends made you anti-social?"

Ben purrs, rubbing his cheek into my palm. I shake my head and stand, preparing to leave the bathroom naked like usual but then a door closing reminds me that Tyler is here.

Wait, was that the front door?

I wrap my towel around my body, pressing my arms down tightly on my sides to keep it up, and cautiously open the door.

"Tyler?" I call out softly. When there's no answer, I lightly pad down the hall towards the living room.

I peek around the corner into the room, seeing that it's empty. I frown. I had thought he would at least have said good-bye. I head back to my room, Ben streaking out of the bathroom after me as I pass, and shut the door behind me angrily.

"Guess it doesn't matter if you don't like people, Ben," I grumble, pulling open my drawers roughly to get out some clean clothes. "They don't like me either."

Ben curls up in the center of my bed, his chest still rumbling as he watches me move about the room angrily.

Once dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt, I pick up my phone lying on my bedside table.

Oh shit.

Missed a call.

From... Edward.

"No fucking way," I breathe out. I bite my lip, contemplating if I should listen to the voicemail.

With a deep breath, I dial and press the phone to my ear. The generic computer voice speaks to me first.

_You have one new message... New message:_

_Hello, Bella? Bella, it's me... Uh, Edward. Maybe it's too late to ring you, I don't know but I just had to call and say... blimey, I don't know what the hell I want to say. I want to say sorry but that doesn't bloody cover it. I'm a... a complete arse, that's for sure. And an idiot. Yeah, definitely. Oh, shit! Sorry, stubbed my toe. I'm pacing. And drunk. Damn you, Jane... Oh, blast! She's not here, I promise. I... well, I guess I kicked her out. Emmett invited her and Heidi over—oh, that's her sister—and she wanted to get more plastered—Jane, not her sister. I think her sister is shagging Emmett as we speak. Oh, bugger, the mental images... Ugh... Uh... So... Wait, what was I trying to say? I haven't the slightest... Well, I'm a stupid bastard... I'm sorry... and please, please... ring me back. You know my mobile. I'll... I'll be waiting._

When the message ends, I pull the phone away, staring down at the screen.

Do I call him back?

Do I make him suffer?

Am I still mad?

Well, I'm mad as in crazy, asking myself all these questions. But who else can I ask?

"Hello?"

I hear the front door close and it scares the shit out of me. I gasp and drop my phone; it clunks loudly to the floor. Tyler walks down the hall and knocks softly on my bedroom door.

"Hey, come in," I say breathlessly. When he opens the door, I throw a pillow at him. "You scared the shit out of me, jackass."

"What? Why?" he laughs, catching the pillow before it smacks into his face. "I just went to get a newspaper."

He holds it up as proof.

"I meant you crashing into my apartment," I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"That wasn't crashing, that was entering," Tyler points out. I roll my eyes and he gestures at Ben. "Who's evil eyes over here?"

"This is Ben," I say, turning to see Ben is in fact glaring at him. I look back at Tyler and nod toward the door. "Go feed him. He'll love you forever."

"After one feeding?" he asks, raising a dark brow.

"He's a cheap date," I shrug.

"Unlike his master?" Tyler smirks. I glare at him and he backs quickly out of the room.

Once Ben hears the familiar tinkle of kibble in his bowl, he takes off as fast as his chubby little legs can carry him.

Fatass.

Tyler comes back into the room, chuckling. He hikes his thumb over his shoulder back at Ben.

"You weren't kidding," he says, sitting down next to me. He sees the phone in my hand and asks, "What's up?"

"Nothing," I say too quickly.

"Hey, best friend here, remember?"

"Edward called..."

"And?"

"And what?" I challenge, suddenly angry. "I don't wanna talk to him."

"Uh huh," Tyler says slowly. "Why not?"

"Doesn't matter," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Huh. Forgot the bra.

"Obviously it does," he says gently, nudging my shoulder. "Come on."

"Fine," I huff. "I'm still pissed he went on a date."

"Have you gone out with him yet?"

"Kinda hard to do when he lives out of state," I mumble, casting my eyes away.

"How far?" Tyler questions, sounding nothing but curious.

"Chicago," I sigh.

"That's pretty far," he says with a nod.

"No shit," I say with a frown.

"How'd you guys meet?"  
"Uh... internet?" I say hesitantly, predicting his reaction.

"Bella! How do you know he's not some creepy fuck who's like... I dunno, a middle-aged sex offender who actually lives in Washington. How much did you tell him? Did you tell him about your coffee house? What town you live in-"

"Tyler, calm down!" I interrupt. I'm surprised to see his brown skin flushed with anger, his fists clenched on his lap. I reach over and try to loosen them gently. "I've talked to him over the phone and he's not that person."

"And what kind of person is he?" he scoffs, his fingers still stiff in my hands.

"I dunno... shy, quiet... British." I shrug.

"Accents can be faked," he says with a wry smile.

"It's not," I say quietly. I open his hands further and place my cell in them. "Listen to the message yourself."

I hand him the phone; breathing heavily through his nose, he replays the message. His brow furrows the farther along he gets and when it's finished, he sighs and sets down the phone.

"Okay, so it's not faked," he says softly. "I definitely can't compete with that."

"What? Oh, Tyler it's not that," I say, laying a hand on his arm. He's looking down sadly and I can't think of what else to say. I bite my lip, tears springing to my eyes. Tyler looks up and his expression softens.

"No, don't cry, sweetheart," Tyler says, moving his hand to hold mine. "I knew there was chance that someone had scooped you up already—you're quite the catch."

"Oh, I'm a fish now?" I ask weakly, still trying to stifle my tears.

I hate hurting people's fucking feelings.

"That was lame," Tyler snorts. I punch him in the arm and he pretends to wince. "Wow, tough guy!"

"Shut up and tell me what I should do, _best friend_," I say, emphasizing the last two words.

"Well, I know you're mad at him, but you still like him, don't you?" he asks.

It doesn't escape my notice that he's still holding my hand. Now, he's rubbing slow circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.

Feels nice.

"I don't know how I feel," I admit with a shrug. "I guess I still like him but... it hurts my feelings that he went out with someone else without even asking."

"Did you guys decide to be exclusive?"

"Shit. No." I frown and try to think back to if we've discussed anything of the sort. "I don't think we've ever even talked about...us. In that way. We just like to talk."

"Why don't you call him," he says, giving back my phone. "And talk about that stuff."

"But... I don't know what I wanna do," I whine.

"Yes you do," he chuckles. "You're just too afraid to admit it."

"Jackass," I grumble, but I know he's right.

If I want to go anywhere with Edward, we need to set some boundaries. But first we need to decide where we are.

Wish I had a map.

"I'm going to go shower," Tyler says, standing with his hand still wrapped around mine. "You'll be fine, sweetheart. Just go with your gut feeling."

He smiles warmly at me and I can't help but smile back. He really is a nice guy.

He leaves the room and Ben comes in right after, rubbing against his legs along the way. He hops up next to me, still purring, and squints up at me.

"Well, Ben... wish me luck."

He meows once and settles down on my lap.

With a deep breath, I bring up Edward's number and press send.

* * *

**A/N: Just say it-I'm a big fat meanie for leaving you with this. But I will NOT wait so long for the next update! I'm writing in my head as we speak! Or as I type... whichever... sorry, in a weird mood and trying to post this before my BF walks in and asks more questions LOL. **

**Oh! The story of the slacker Tyler has to carry is mostly true. My cousin was the slacker. He seriously got mad about who was in charge, broke his hand, didn't keep up with his PT and... yeah, besides the dialogue, its all basically true. Including wanting Honorable Discharge. The idiot. *sigh* Family... **

**Oh and one last thing! I told you so! Bella is NOT interesting in anyone but Edward. Promise. Trust me? Please do... and remember... Reviews = love!**


	8. Chapter 8: Thursday, Day Six Part II

**A/N: Nothing slows down updating like too much work, a cold and two boys that decide to take over my computer to do their gaming. Ugh. I finally remembered to take home my laptop from work so at least the gaming part shouldn't get in the way... But enough of my excuses! I need to make sure to mention that this chapter would be total crap if it wasn't for shadowed by passion's beta skills. Seriously, I never thought having a cold would screw up my grammar and spelling SO badly. You do NOT want to see the original copy... And have I mentioned yet that I heart Sunflower3759? She sends me almost weekly pm's checking up on me. She just added my alter ego on FB to keep closer tabs on me too! lol Anyone can add me and bug me all they want! I am Cherry Bombluv Writings. Now on with the reading!**

* * *

Chapter 8: Thursday, Day Six Part II

"Yes, hi, hello—oh, shit! Bugger!"

"Uh... Edward?" I say into the phone, slightly concerned with the crashing I hear on the other end. I hear a lot of shuffling and a few more curse words before he picks up again.

"Hello? Aw, damn, where did my bloody glasses go?" he mumbles. "I'm terribly sorry, I can't see the called I.D. Who is this?"

"It's... it's Bella," I say quietly, listening as Tyler turns on the shower.

"Bella? Bella!" Edward exclaims, and then continues in a rush. "Did you get my message? I feel just... bloody awful and I know I didn't explain myself well enough. You see, I thought it was just a friendly dinner party but then Emmett told me that it was more than that. By then it was too late and the bastard kept helping me lead her on. I'm bloody pissed beyond words at him and I just hope you can-"

"Edward! It's okay," I interrupt with a giggle.

God I missed his ramblings.

"B-but I needed to tell you," he says softly, but I stop him again.

"Just answer me something," I say, biting my lip nervously.

"Anything," he answers quickly. I take a deep breath.

"Are you interested in her?" I ask, crossing my fingers on top of Ben, who's still curled up on my lap.

"No," he says simply and firmly.

"Really?" I breathe out.

"Absolutely not," he says emphatically. "She's not my type at all. I mean, she's nice and pretty—I mean, she's attractive but I don't really like the short hair. Or blonde. I prefer longer, and darker, like yours-"

"Wait, what?" I say, my heart stopping.

What the hell did he mean, _like yours?_

"W-what?" he stutters nervously and I can hear his breathing picking up.

"You said _'I prefer longer, and darker, like yours,'_" I repeat almost angrily.

How the fuck did this guy know what kind of hair I had?

"Well, I uh... I just guessed, I mean I had hoped. I don't know what... what..." Edward trails off hopelessly and then sighs. "Oh, bugger, I'm so sorry."

"How the hell do you know what kind of hair I have," I say slowly, through gritted teeth.

Maybe Tyler was right about this guy after all.

Total creeper.

"I might have uh... googled...you..."

I gasp.

Okay, so I may have been thinking of doing the same thing—or rather did do the same thing to find his number. But he had been—what, ogling my picture? I would never do that.

Would I?

No, that's creepy shit right there.

"Explain yourself," I snap, my body shaking in anger.

"I was just curious," he rushes to say. "All I wanted to do was... get an idea of... of who I was talking to. I just needed to see if the beautiful face m-matched the... the beautiful voice. I know I'm a bloody idiot and if you never want to talk to me ever again, I would completely understand."

"I... I don't know what to say," I whisper, my anger quickly deflating with how sincere he sounds. I know I should be pissed as hell, but the combination of his honest compliments and defeated voice makes me feel bad for getting so mad so quickly.

Maybe I'm not feeling so well after all.

I need meds for all these mood swings I go through.

"Say... you hate me," he says sadly.

"I couldn't hate you," I say softly.

"Well, you should," he mumbles.

I sigh heavily and look around helplessly.

"Look, Edward," I say slowly. "We need to figure things out."

"Oh," he says, surprised. "L-like what?"

"Like where we stand," I say confidently, knowing I'm going to need to be the one to take control. "Yesterday, after I found out that you were going out on a date... well, I kind of did too."

"Oh," he says again, this time sounding disappointed.

"Can't you say anything else?" I ask, slightly frustrated.

"Um... was the bloke nice to you?" he asks uncertainly.

"Yes, too nice," I say with a chuckle. "As soon as I told him that I wasn't interested, he totally understood. I'm lucky he did really, after the night we had."

"The... the n-night you had?" he asks, his voice getting unusually high.

"Yeah," I say quietly, suddenly embarrassed. "I kinda... I don't know... I was upset so I had a bit too much to drink."

"Did you... d-do anything..." he asks shyly. I can see where he's going and cut him off quickly.

"Like I said—he was too nice," I point out. "He made sure that nothing happened. I passed out alone and woke up too early with a splitting headache."

"Blimey, how are you feeling now?" he asks quickly.

"I'm okay," I shrug, stroking Ben's soft fur. I suddenly remember all the crashing I had heard when he answered the phone. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Me? I'm fantastic now that I'm talking to you!" he exclaims, making me giggle.

"Well, thanks," I say, blushing slightly. "I meant all the crashing—what was going on?"

"Oh, I'm a bit hung over myself," he says sheepishly. "I indulged a bit too much last night. I was... I was nervous..."

"Oh?"

"I told you," he says quietly. "I don't do well around girls."

"You do fine with me," I breathe.

We're silent for a few minutes. I absentmindedly run my hand over Ben's back, head to tail, over and over again. I hardly register the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

"Hey, Bella, I was wondering-" Tyler starts to say as he walks into my room. He stops short when he sees me on the phone and holds up his hands, retreating silently.

"Who was that?" Edward demands.

"Just my friend, Tyler," I say lamely. Surly he'll figure it out quick.

"Your date?"

Yup. Quick.

"Uh, yeah," I mumble. "He crashed here last night, on the couch, because he was worried about me."

"Why would he be worried?" he asks curiously.

"Turns out my drunkeness brought out a lot of things," I say, laughing humorlessly. "I mentioned you at some point."

"Ah," he says and then pauses. "And... what did you say?"

"I'm... not sure," I answer. "But I do know that it just didn't feel right. The date, that is."

"It didn't?" he asks hopefully.

"No. I'm not sure if I figured out I didn't want to date because I went out with him or because he was such a nice guy and pointed out that I wasn't ready."

"Oh?"

"Yeah... at least I'm not ready for anyone other than you." I pause, take a deep breath and then continue. "For me, right now, there is no one else. So I wanted to know if we could be... you know... together, even though we're miles apart."

I hold my breath, waiting, hoping...

I feel like throwing up again when he takes forever to answer.

"Edward?" I say quietly.

"I don't... I mean... can we do that?" he says in that nervously high voice again.

"Uh... why couldn't we?" I ask, slightly amused.

"Well, we haven't... gone on a... a d-date, or met or anything of the sort," he manages to get out.

"We could," I say slowly, biting my lip.

"How?" he asks after a moment.

"Well..." I glance around the room and my eyes land on my laptop plugged into the wall. "There's always webcam."

Edward is quiet again, this time for so long that rather than just getting anxious, I get a bit annoyed.

"Say something, damn it!" I nearly shout at him; I hear something clatter to the floor on his end.

"Oh! Right! Sorry!" he says swiftly. "Yes! I mean, sure, we can... we can do that. Any idea... um... when? I would like time to shower, shave..."

"How about this evening?" I suggest, practically bouncing on the bed, a stupid grin splitting across my face.

I can't believe we're going to do this.

"All right, how about eight?"

"Sounds like a plan."

We don't say anything again until he softly says my name.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't... I can't wait to see you," he murmurs.

"Back at ya," I tell him.

We hang up and I jump off the bed, forgetting Ben is sitting there. He rolls to the floor with a hiss and waddles away. I roll my eyes and race off down the hall.

I find Tyler in the kitchen, dressed only in his slacks. I'm momentarily stunned by his bare, muscled, tan chest. He catches me staring, though, and smirks.

"Can I help you?" he asks, pausing in the act of pouring out a cup of coffee.

"Uh... what?" I say eloquently, giving my head a small shake. "I mean... why are you shirtless?"

"I was trying to make another pot of coffee when the grounds attacked me," he says, gesturing with his mug to the coffee table.

I snort when I see his once clean white shirt sitting there, now completely covered in dark brown shmutz. Tyler clears his throat behind me and I turn to see him glaring at me.

"Think that's funny, do you?" he says with mock anger in his voice.

"Maybe a little," I say with a shrug, walking over to him and taking his cup out of his hand and taking a sip. "What are friends for?"

"Hmm," he hums, taking the cup back and gulping it down. He hands it back empty and smiles. "Thanks, friend, but I better be off."

"Oh that's right, you have work," I say with a small pout.

"Gonna miss me?" he teases, putting on his button up shirt over his bare chest.

"Well, all I have to look forward to is work this afternoon with The Amazing Mike," I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I thought you had something planned for tonight," he asks, grabbing his jacket.

"What? Oh! Yes!" I say excitedly but then stop and frown. "Wait... were you eavesdropping?"

"What are friends for," he says with a grin. "Text me if The Amazing Mike does a spectacular trick."

"The only spectacular trick I want to see is a good employee," I scoff, shuffling over to him.

Tyler puts his hands on my shoulders, his jacket slung over his arm.

"I really did have a good time," he says sincerely. "You're entertaining when you're drunk."

"Yeah, yeah," I say with a wave of my hand. "Thanks for putting up with me."

"Anytime... friend," he says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

I stand in the doorway as I watch him leave, feeling very lucky to have made such a good friend so quick.

I glance at the clock and see that I have two hours until work. With a sigh, I put on my shoes, throw my hair into a pony-tail and head to the grocery store. My apartment is in serious need of milk, cereal, and of course, beer.

Oh and cat food. Don't want Ben to try to eat _me_ when he runs out of his precious kibble.

I return home slightly sweaty after deciding to try to carry up all twelve bags in one trip and shove everything away as quickly as possible; Ben trots after me the whole time. I give my face one last wash, comb through my hair again and walk down to work.

I walk in to find the place completely empty. Though it's a weekday, this is very odd when it's nearly lunch time. There are plenty of businesses around that have employees that take their lunch break here.

I slowly walk toward the counter, pulling my ear-buds out as I go and shoving them into my purse. Mike is sitting at the register, phone in hand as he plays some game. He doesn't notice me walk up until I'm right on him. He hastily puts his phone under the counter and smiles at me.

"Hi, welcome to—oh, hey, boss!" he says cheerfully, looking genuinely surprised. "What's going on?"

"You tell me," I say, waving around the empty room. "Where are all my customers?"

"No clue," he shrugs. "Haven't had a single one yet."

I gape at him.

"Not...one?" I say breathlessly.

"Weird, I know," he agrees.

I look around, sniffing for any funny smells that might have turned people away and looking for any indication out the window that something else is going on—though what would turn _everyone_ away, I have no idea.

Then I see it.

Oh. My. God.

"Mike," I say in a low voice, breathing heavily. "Did you flip the sign?"

"What sign?" he asks, utterly confused.

"What—the damn 'Open' sign!" I shout at him, my eyes wide.

"We have an 'Open' sign?" he asks in a shocked voice.

"Do we... do we... Jacob!" I bellow, marching behind the counter.

Jacob comes bolting out of the office, a stack of paper in his hands.

"Bella? What's wrong?" he asks, his eyes raking my body for any sign of injury and then shooting around the room. His forehead crinkles at the sight.

"You said you would train Mike to open," I say angrily, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

"I did! I walked him through everything!" Jacob defends himself, looking around again. "Shit, where is everyone?"

"Did you ask him to flip the sign?" I ask in a dangerously low voice, my whole body shaking.

"Of course!" he says with a chuckle. "That's the very first thing I told him to do."

"But did you_ see_ him do it?" I ask, blinking slowly.

So much for being over the fucking hang-over.

"He followed me right up to the door when I went out to my car to get our tax paperwork," Jacob says, holding up the papers he's clutching but I can see in his eyes that he's fuming now too. He turns to Mike with a menacing glare. Mike has the nerve to look at us innocently.

"I didn't know what 'flip the sign' meant," he says meekly.

"Then why didn't you fucking ask?" I demand, my voice raising by the end of the sentence. Before he can answer, I hold my hands up to stop him. "You know what? Save it! You're out! Come back tomorrow for your final check."

I stomp around to the other side of the counter and to the office. I fling my purse inside and turn to see Mike still standing there, his mouth hanging open.

"What?" I ask sharply. "Can your tiny pea-brain not understand it? Get the fuck out!"

"Hey, you can't speak to me that way!" he sputters, standing up and crossing his arms over his thin chest.

"What about me?" Jacob says menacingly, standing to his full height and towering over Mike.

Mike scowls, tears off his apron and tosses it in my direction. It falls limply at my feet and Jacob starts forward, but I put a hand on his massive forearm to stop him. Once Mike has disappeared out the door, Jacob turns to me, his face full of anguish.

"Bella, I am so, so sorry," he says, his shoulders hunched. "I know for a fact that he's heard me say a million fucking times that I'm going to flip the sign. He's seen it done, he knows, he-"

"Is a fucking moron," I finish for him, sighing heavily. "It's not your fault. I thought he would be fine opening as long as someone else was here, but apparently he couldn't even handle that."

I hear the door open and fully expect Mike to come storming back in so I steel myself for a big fight. It ends up being Angela. She walks in, looking confused at the lack of customers, and then looks to the window. She sees the sign and turns it around, smiling. She sees Jacob and me and waves.

"Hey guys," she says cheerfully. "Were you closed for a bit? Everything okay?"

"Yes and no," I sigh. Jacob puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll tell her while you go into your office and take a breather," he offers. I nod and slouch off to my office.

Once inside, I pick up my purse off the floor and get out my cell. I stash my bag in the file cabinet and check for messages. The phone is sadly blank so I pull up both Edward and Tyler's numbers. I stare for a moment, debating who to message about Mike. I settle for both, curious about the different possible reactions.

Tyler is quick to get back to me.

_**He never was the sharpest crayon in the tool shed. Sorry.**_

I snicker at his mash-up of two different phrases and type back.

_He's a dumbass that I should have gotten rid of long ago. Now my good day is ruined._

I start shuffling through the tax paperwork Jacob had left behind but don't get very far until my phone buzzes again.

_**Just part of your morning. I'll stop by after work. Does that help?**_

_Sounds good. Aren't you there now? Shouldn't you be, you know... working?_

_**I'm in time-out.**_

I giggle and shake my head, sending one last message to tell him I'll see him later. I go back to my message inbox right when a message from Edward pops up. I grin stupidly.

_**Sorry, Bella. He was a git anyways.**_

_Too true. What are you up to now?_

_**Trying to get my sorry arse out of bed and into the shower.**_

_Oh great, now I have naked Edward on my mind._

_**Seriously?**_

_...maybe._

_**Well, naked or not, this Edward just slipped off the bed reading that.**_

_You goof. You're almost clumsier than me!_

_**Hey, you caught me off guard. Never had someone picture me naked, as far as I know.**_

_I'm sure all sexy barmen have stalkers that picture them naked._

_**Who says I'm sexy?**_

_Me._

_**Oh.**_

_Edward?_

_**Yes?**_

_Cant' wait for tonight. But I have to work now._

_**Okay. I'll be thinking of you.**_

_Promise?_

_**Of course. I could never lie to you.**_

_Good._

_My_ stupid grin is even stupider than before and before my stupid happy mood can disappear, I get my stupid ass out onto the floor.

Wow. I really need to get some sleep tonight.

Tyler shows up, as promised, at almost exactly four-thirty. I look at my watch obviously as he strolls up to the counter, dressed in his... whatever those camouflage uniforms are. He takes off his camo hat and tucks it under his arm.

"Did you like run out of there or something?" I ask, my eyes still on my watch.

"Pretty much," he shrugs. "Twenty cups of coffee today wasn't good enough. Need my fix."

"Anything you want, on the house," I say, lacing my fingers together and placing them on the counter.

"You do owe me," he muses. When I glare at him he chuckles. "Espresso."

"Oh God, me too," I moan, moving away to make two drinks.

"So what happened with Mike?" he asks eagerly, standing at the pick-up counter. He leans his crossed arms on the tile surface.

"It was fucking ridiculous," I mutter. "He forgot to turn over the sign to say we were open."

Tyler stares at me blankly for a moment.

"Seriously?" he asks in disbelief. I shrug. "Wow. That's just... wow."

"Well, can't turn something over when you don't know it exists," I say with a fake smile, tilting my head to the side.

"Oh my God," Tyler groans, shaking his head. "How this boy has made it this far in life, I have no idea."

I set Tyler's drink on the counter and then rush to help the next customer who comes in.

Wait, that's not a customer... That's...

"Alice!" I cry, spinning around and racing around the counter. My feet slip out from under me when I make the turn, but I catch my balance before throwing myself on the tiny girl with the jet black hair who's grinning as broadly as me.

"Isabella Swan, it's been forever!" she says in her high voice, gripping me tightly. We pull back, arms still around each other, and she squints at me. "You got fucked up last night."

"Nice to see you too," I say, trying to sound annoyed, but the smile is still there.

"I'm your best friend," she shrugs. "I know these things."

I call out to Jake to run the register and walk arm in arm with Alice to a table in the back of the cafe. I sit down eagerly, looking at my little friend.

She looks just as trendy as ever, even though she's only wearing a black tank top with a fluffy black skirt. She looks almost like a dark ballerina, complete with cute little ballet flats. She has on bright red nail polish to give a pop of color, along with a shiny red lip.

At times I really wish I could look as awesome as Alice.

"So what are you doing here in Seattle?" I ask, leaning forward.

"Came to see you—duh!" she trills, rolling her big brown eyes. "Oh and there's a conference in town. So, I'll be here for a week!"

"Yay!" I cheer. "Did you come alone?"

"Meaning did I come here with that excuse for a lover?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. I giggle and she sighs dramatically. "We just weren't meant to be. But the sex was great!"

"But of course," I agree. "So, where are you staying? There's always room on my tiny couch."

"I wish I could but I actually did come with a co-worker and she insisted on getting a hotel room," Alice says with a frown. She may look expensive but she loves a bargain. She looks around and waves at someone. "That's her there. Hey, Rose!"

I look up to see a fuck-hot blonde, dressed in a tight black pencil skirt and frilly white blouse. Her blonde waves hang in perfection, framing her doll-like face. After getting a tea from Jacob- who can't seem to stop staring like a pervert as she walks away—she saunters over to us on six inch heels.

"Hello, I'm Rosalie Hale," she says politely, holding out a slender hand for me to shake. When she sits down next to Alice, I shoot Jacob a pointed look—that fucker is still staring!-and turn back to the two girls smiling back at me.

"Hi, Bella Swan," I tell her.

"I love your shop," Rose says, looking around. "You take good care of it."

"I try," I say with a bashful shrug. "So, Alice says you two are here for the week. We should get together for a girls night. My place isn't much, but you two are more than welcome to come over for a movie and wine or something."

"Oh, yes! We have to!" Alice says, bouncing in her seat. "Please, Rose? I've known Bella forever but it's been years since we've had a night in together!"

"Sure, Alice," Rose says quickly, scowling down at her tea. "I need honey. Excuse me."

When she leaves, I look at Alice and lower my voice.

"Is she always..." I whisper.

"Such an ice queen?" Alice asks with a giggle. "She grows on you. She's in business mode right now, but I promise that some wine will loosen her up. Tonight?"

"Can't, I have a date," I say with a grin.

"What?!" Alice says in a shrill voice. I actually stick my finger in my ear and wiggle it, searching for damage. Alice slaps my arm. "Oh, knock it off. Now tell me! Who is it? How hot is he? Is this your first date? Second? How long til you go all the way?"

"Whoa, chill, Alice," I laugh, holding up my hands, palms out. "It's complicated. I'll explain _tomorrow_ night when you two come over."

"You better!" Alice says as Rose joins us again, her phone in one hand and her tea in the other.

"Sorry, Bella, but we need to run," she says curtly. "Alice, that was Dimitri, he needs us right away for a consultation."

"All right, duty calls," Alice says with a sigh. We stand up, hug one more time and then they're breezing out the door, Rose striding purposely with Alice flitting behind.

God, I've missed that chick.

* * *

"I can't do this... I can't do this..."

It's nearly eight and I'm pacing my apartment, fucking hyperventilating at the thought of talking to Edward in mere minutes. I considered logging on the second I walked in the door at six but I didn't want to seem desperate. At exactly eight, I would sign in.

Because that's not desperate at all.

"Ben, please tell me I can do this," I beg, looking down at where he's curled on the couch. He doesn't acknowledge my presence so I toss a pillow at him. "Damn it, answer me!"

He hisses and races for the bedroom.

"God, I'm such a nutcase," I moan, sinking down into his spot and weaving my hands into my hair. I pull out my phone again to check for messages but there aren't any.

About an hour ago, I started to panic and sent Alice multiple texts but she must be busy or let her phone die again. She tends to do that when she's traveling.

Either way, I'm freaking the fuck out right now.

I was fine when I was keeping busy primping myself. I showered, blow dried my hair, put on cover-up and mascara with a hint of lip gloss, a clean t-shirt and my comfy sweats—I doubt he will see me from the waist down.

But now my hair is a mess from all the times my hands have ran through it, my lip gloss is virtually gone with all the lip biting I've been doing and my t-shirt is wrinkled at the bottom where I keep twisting it with my fingers.

I've never been this nervous before a date. Then again, every guy I've gone out with we have met face to face before going out. Except that one blind date... That was a disaster.

Shit, was it going to turn out badly with Edward?

No. We've been talking, we get along, we like each other...

This is different. _He_ is different.

I look up at the microwave.

8:01.

I gasp and lunge for my laptop on the table in front of me. I double click on the Skype icon and bite my lip hard as it loads.

And shows me I'm online alone.

My heart momentarily sinks but then I realize that it's barely time for us to meet and he's probably nervous. I breathe slowly in and out, willing my heart to behave.

Five minutes tick by.

Ten.

Twenty.

My stomach is twisting and turning in knots as it reaches 8:30. There's no way he would forget about me, right?

I clutch my phone in my hands, wondering if maybe he was just unable to get to the computer. Yeah, that must be it—he just got caught up in something. He _does_ run his own business.

I decide to call him. Something like this happened once before and it was no big deal.

I feel marginally better as I bring the phone to my ear but it doesn't even ring once before it goes straight to voicemail. I slouch down on the couch, feeling beaten down, and figure I might as well leave a message.

_This number's voice mailbox is currently full. Please try again later._

* * *

**A/N: Please don't hate me! I know I left it on yet another cliffie but it usually keeps you all coming back for more! Hee hee. Oh I forgot to mention, I'm very happy with those of you that understand my Tyler. He's gonna be the nice guy, I promise. Yes, Bella overreacted but hey, it happens. She has trust issues-remember how her dad turned out? Yeah. So please trust me with this and if you could leave me some lovin' then I'll do my hardest to update before the week is up! OH! And Happy Labor Day and all that good stuff.**


	9. Chapter 9: Friday, Day Seven

**A/N: I went back and reread a few chapters and realized I promised this within the week. Well, planning for a week in Disneyland for the kid's bday took a lot more of my time then I thought! And then, though I did bring my laptop, I had no time to write on the trip (wishful thinking) and THEN when we got back, the kid was a bunch of trouble. He wasn't getting to bed on time (his mind was still on vacation schedule) so he was a pain all week and he forgot his homework on 3 different days. Not cool. OH! Have I thanked Shadowed By Passion yet for her awesome Beta skills? Seriously! I thought I picked over my stuff so much there would be nothing left to fix! lol Boy, was I wrong... You're amazing, lady! Okay, last thing I'll say before I let you guys get on with this. I DO have (somewhat) of a plan here. If you don't like where things are going, that's your own thing. But please, if you choose to read, have faith in me. Though I appreciate feedback, I'm not changing what's going to happen based on what a reader says (unless it's a much needed change) because if I tried to please everyone, this would be one messed up story! So yeah... plain and simple. Don't like it, don't read it. *shrugs***

* * *

Chapter 9: Friday, Day Seven

I squint my eyes at the clock.

2:45 A.M.

Ugh.

Why did I open my eyes?

For the second morning in a row, my head is fucking pounding. I roll over with a groan which turns to a squeal when I fall off the couch; the sound of aluminum cans clinking into each other makes me moan again and I look around blearily.

Why the hell did I wake up?

There's another pounding sound and it's not my head. It's someone at the door.

"What the..." I grumble, wanting to kill who ever is behind the banging.

"Bella Swan! You open this damn door right this minute!" Alice shouts through the wood.

Grunting out a few choice words and knowing that I can't kill my best friend, I pick myself off the floor and shuffle to the door. I turn the locks and walk back to the couch, flopping down and leaning my head back.

The door bursts open, making me wince. I turn my head slightly to see Alice standing there, hands on hips, glaring at me.

"Are you dead?" she demands.

"Not that I'm aware of," I mumble at her.

"Then tell me why the hell you didn't answer your phone!" she shouts at me, slamming the door behind her.

"Ow, shit, Alice!" I moan, covering my face with my hands. "Can you keep it down? I do have neighbors, you know."

And a head that's on fucking fire.

"Fuck them," she says airily, dropping down next to me. She sighs heavily. "Where are your pants?"

I look down and see that I am indeed sitting there in nothing but panties and a t-shirt.

Damn. Is that my new drunken habit?

"Good question," I mutter.

"Well, better than nothing," she shrugs and then squints her eyes into another glare. "Now, back to why I had to bust down your door."

"My phone is right there," I say, gesturing to the coffee table, where my blank phone is sitting next to my hibernating laptop. "And it didn't ring all damn night."

Alice reaches forward with another sigh, tapping my phone screen. She snorts and shakes her head.

"In order to receive calls, you need to have the thing _on,_" she says, pressing the power button. "But it looks like it's dead anyways."

She hops up and flits down to my room, coming back with my charger in her hand. She plugs it in at the kitchen counter, waits a few moments and pushes the power button again. A few taps later and she nods.

"Yup. Six mixed calls," she says.

"From?" I ask, sitting up straighter.

Please let one of them be Edward...

"Me, of course," she says with a furrowed brow. Her expression clears and she tilts her head to study me. "Were you waiting for _him _?"

I shift in my seat, avoiding her gaze. I hear her sigh again before she skips over to me and throws herself down on the couch.

How the hell does someone have this much energy at nearly three in the morning?

Speaking of which…

"So, besides the fact that you thought I was dead, why the hell are you out and about at three in the morning?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation off myself.

"Rose and I were working late," she shrugs. "Decided to go out for a glass of wine and I _tried_ to call and invite you along, but it seems you were too busy pining over some guy that you refuse to talk about!" Alice's voice raises to a pitch so high that I swear my eardrums are about to burst. I cover them and shoot her a dirty look. She simply frowns and pulls my hands away from the sides of my head. She cocks an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

"I wasn't pining and I'm not refusing to talk about him," I say defensively. "I just haven't had the chance to tell you about him yet."

"I'll overlook the fact that you won't admit that you were indeed pining if you tell me about him," she says, crossing her tiny arms over her chest and throwing her feet up on the coffee table. She's still wearing those cute ballet shoes and I focus on those as I talk.

I tell her all about the mistaken email and how I couldn't help but write back; I tell her about his shyness and our effortless banter; she giggles with me at his lack of coordination, especially when he's talking to me. When I get to the part about the bar fight and his hospital trip, she gasps and groans in sympathy. When I reach the part about tonight—er, last night—and how we were supposed to finally meet virtually face to face and he never showed, her eyes narrow and her lips purse.

"I gave up waiting for him around eleven and started drinking instead," I say, kicking aside a beer can and watching as it rolls away under the coffee table.

Alice sits silently, her lips still pressed together. She has her eyes so squinted that I can't even see the pretty brown color of her irises. After what seems like fucking forever and I'm starting to get annoyed, she speaks.

"Bella, where did you say he lives?" she asks, her eyes somewhere over my shoulder.

"Chicago," I say automatically.

"And what's the time difference?"

"Two hours," I huff. "What's your point?"

"What time did you say you were meeting on Skype?" she asks, ignoring my question.

"At eight," I say slowly, looking at her questioningly.

"Who's time?" she asks, her eyes darting to mine.

"Oh…. Shit…" I mumble angrily, slapping my hands to my forehead.

"Never did specify, did you?" she says with a snort.

"Oh, fuck, Alice, I'm such an idiot," I groan.

"Well, so is he," she giggles. "Did you try calling or texting?"

"Too many times," I sigh. "It kept going right to voicemail and he never called back."

"Right to voicemail?" she clarifies and I nod, my hands still on my face. "Sounds like his phone wasn't on either."

"Do you think so?" I ask, looking up hopefully.

"It's a possibility," she shrugs. "Maybe he had to go to work or his phone died or some shit."

"I guess," I mumble, leaning back again. I turn my head to look at my friend. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"It happens," she says, pinching my bare leg. I squeal and pull it away. "Just don't do it again!"

"No promises," I say with a laugh, jumping up before she can injure me any further. "You gonna stay over? If you do, I promise to put pants on."

"Not like I haven't seen you in less," she says, slipping off her shoes. "I'll stay. You'll probably need me in the morning to find the coffee maker."

"Please, I can always find that!" I say with a snort but then I wince at the pain in my head. "But you're probably right. Dunno if sleep will fix half a case of beer."

I let Alice borrow an oversized t-shirt of mine—though just about anything above an extra small looks huge on her—to sleep in and put one on myself. After she messages Rose to let her know where she is, Alice turns over with her back to me and is asleep almost instantly.

I lay awake, staring out the open window. The clouds break apart just enough so that I can see one star blinking back at me. I look up at it, wondering if Edward can see it too, if he's thinking of me too.

I think also about how the night went and how I'm the biggest frigging idiot ever. How the hell did I _not_ think about the time difference? It's always our biggest concern when we want to talk—what time it will be and where.

My mind wanders, thinking about when we talked about our different date nights. His night was clearly not his choice; mine was out of anger and jealousy. Now that I think about it more, albeit not with a completely clear head, I realize that there's no reason why this guy should still like me. I've yelled at him for nothing, made him feel like shit for something that wasn't his fault and went out with a guy I wasn't interested in just to spite him.

God, I'm such a bitch.

I roll onto my back, tears welling in my eyes. When I talk to him again—if I talk to him again—what the fuck will I say to make this right?

* * *

The morning dawns bright and cold; the sun shines bravely through the clouds but not enough to promise a warm day. Alice is up before me and clatters around the kitchen noisily until I grumpily join her with my bathrobe on but not tied. It flaps around my knees but I allow the chill to wake me up.

"Who in the world wakes up at fucking seven in the morning after going to bed at practically dawn?" I grumble, slumping onto the couch.

"Someone who wasn't drinking into oblivion last night," Alice chatters happily. She, too, is still only wearing a t-shirt and when she spins around to talk to me, the hem flaps around her thighs. Her eyes are shining and she's wearing a shit-eating grin on her face that does not look good.

"Oh no, Alice, what did you do?" I ask warily, sitting up with wide eyes.

"Nothing!" she says cheerfully, dancing over to me, as she picks up my laptop and sits down. "Well, sorta nothing."

"Spit it out," I snap playfully, crossing my arms in mock anger.

"Chill, lady," she says with a shake of the head. She brings up Facebook and clicks the photos icon on her page. "Do you remember when I went on that business trip to Chicago? I think it was maybe six months ago. I went with the bastard?"

"You mean your now ex-boyfriend?" I giggle.

"Yes," she huffs before smiling again. "Well, while we were there... we went to a bar. I was wondering if it was maybe..."

"Holy shit, Edward's bar?" I say shrilly, grabbing the laptop and bringing it closer to myself.

"Maybe! What bar was it?" Alice asks, while opening up the album labeled _Adventures of a Fashionista Spring 2012._

"Double E Bar," I say automatically. A few clicks later and I gasp.

On the screen is a picture of Alice, looking as fabulous as ever, holding her hands over her head and pointing at a blue neon sign that says _Double E Bar_. The caption below the picture reads:

_Time for some group therapy with the gang!_

"That's it!" Alice cheers, clapping her hands and clicking to the next photo.

"I can't believe you've been there," I say in disbelief, leaning forward to look at the next photo.

"Oh, you won't believe what I may have here," Alice says in a low voice, clicking excitedly.

Different pictures of Alice, her co-workers—including Rosalie—and her ex flip by, all showing them in different poses and with a variety of drinks and different interesting wall décor.

Then, Alice stops on a picture of everyone that was with her that night. They were all posing at their table, holding up different glasses full of an assortment of colored liquids. She squeals and points.

"This is the picture!" she nearly shrieks.

"I... don't get it," I say blankly, pointing at the screen. "It's just you and everyone else... smiling like drunken idiots at his bar. So what?"

"No no no!" Alice says, slapping her hand down on the couch with each word. "Look! Right there!"

She points above the booth the group is sitting in. Mounted on the wall is a wooden framed mirror. The bar's logo is stenciled onto the glass and you can see most of the reflection of the person taking the photo; the majority of the mirror is reflecting the flash from the camera.

"I still don't get it," I mumble. Alice makes a noise that sounds like "tch!"

"What did you say Emmett looks like?" she asks impatiently.

"Big burly guy," I shrug.

"And what does Edward look like," she says slowly, drawing out each word.

"He wears glasses, that's all I—oh!" A light bulb goes off in my head and I look at Alice incredulously. "Did he take the picture?"

"Well, it sure wasn't a big burly man," she says smugly.

I bring the computer so close to my face that my nose is just about on it but I can clearly see that the person taking the picture is holding the camera at chest level, leaving his face unobstructed. The flash highlights the face, as opposed to obscuring it, so I can easily see the square framed glasses beneath a mess of hair. He's smiling, his teeth straight and dazzling. The darkness of the bar hides the color of his hair but just this little glimpse of him is what I need.

"We were all sitting there, having a great time, when _he_ walked up," Alice explains softly. "He greeted us politely, told us his name—but I was too fucked up to really pay attention—and said that we were one of the best large groups they'd had in a while. He offered to buy us a round of shots and call us cabs when we needed them. When he saw our camera sitting on the table, he told us he could take a group shot. He was so nice, so cute—my God, that accent! Girl, you are _so _lucky. Please don't tell me you're going to let this one get away. I promise you, last night was a fluke. Something happened out of his control because there's no way he would just ditch you. It's bad manners that he just can't possess."

"But Alice," I whine, looking up at her reluctantly. "I have been such a bitch to him! There's no way he's going to continue to go for an asshole like me."

"Bella, you've had a hard life," she says, putting her hand on my arm. "Your dad is an asshat, your mom walked out when you were little and I gotta tell you... you've let way too many jerks walk all over you. This guy though? He's different. I can tell."

"He's just so far away," I say longingly, looking at the screen again and feeling an ache in the pit of my stomach.

"If it's meant to be, it'll work," she says with a squeeze to my arm.

I sigh heavily.

She's right. She's always fucking right.

"Okay, what should I do?" I ask confidently.

Alice's face brightens and she grabs my phone off the coffee table and hands it to me.

"Call him," she says simply. "If he doesn't answer his cell, call his work. Leave a message. Tell him you're an idiot, tell him you waited, tell him... shit, I don't know. Tell him there's no way in hell that you're willing to give up if he isn't."

"You make it sound so easy," I grumble, taking the phone slowly. "What if he _did_ ditch me?"

"Then he better come up with one hell of a reason," Alice says menacingly, her nostrils flaring.

Yeah, never get the little devil mad.

I take a deep breath and bring up his cell number, waiting only a second longer than needed before hitting send. Alice's finger whips out and hits the speaker button. She smiles broadly as I glare at her.

It goes straight to voicemail, yet again, but I don't let it discourage me. I hang up before the automated message can finish and bring up the bar's number. It's still way too early for them to be open, being only just after nine in the morning there, but what the hell.

Surprisingly, someone picks up and I sit up a little straighter, exchanging a gleeful look with Alice.

"Hello, Double E Bar, this is Emmett speaking," a deep voice answers and I slump down. "I'm sorry, but it's after hours. If you'd like to call back at five when we open, it would be much appreciated, unless this is an emergency."

"Sorry, I'll just-" I start to say but Alice cuts me off.

"Yes, we're looking for Edward," she butts in. I shoot her a warning glance and try to grab the phone to end the call but she smacks my hand away.

"Um, he's not in," Emmett says slowly. "Can I take a message?"

"Do you know where he is?" Alice asks assertively.

"Look, if this is business related, you can speak to me," he says brusquely. "If you're calling to mess with him or get him into bed you can fuck off."

"Alice, just hang up, it's no big deal," I whisper to her.

"No, Bella, I'm not giving up until we find him!" she hisses at me.

"Bella?" Emmett says, sounding confused.

"Uh, yeah?" I say, just as perplexed.

"_The_ Bella?" he says incredulously.

"The only Bella I know," I say with a chuckle.

"Holy shit!" he crows. "The one from Washington?"

"Last I checked, yes," I say, amused by his reaction.

"Oh, wow!" he nearly shouts, laughing loudly. "Oh my God, I can't believe this... I can't believe I... oh shit, you don't know. Oh fuck, I hate having to tell you..."

"Shit, is he okay?" I cut in, instantly on edge. Alice pats my back reassuringly.

"Yeah—well, physically, yes," he says with a low growl. "Shit... I had hoped he'd be able to call you but he must have used his only call on me."

"Why would he only get one phone call?" I ask, a little afraid of the answer. "Where is he?"

"He, uh... damn, he got picked up last night," Emmett says forlornly.

"He...what?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yeah, he was supposed to come into work by nine-thirty. He said he had something to do, but on his way, he said he ran a red light, argued with the cops... something about some liquor, the hell if I know what he was talking about."

Emmett trails off, mumbling something as bottles clink in the background.

"Alice?" I say quietly, totally aghast by the situation. "That doesn't sound like him."

"Damn straight," Emmett cuts in; Alice huffs.

"Would you please stop butting in?" she complains, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at the phone as if he can see her.

"Hey, you guys called me! _And_ put me on speaker!" he shoots back with a chuckle. "You know Edward a bit now, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess—I mean, we talk sometimes," I say lamely, shrugging my shoulders.

"I call bullshit on that one but whatever," Emmett mumbles quickly before continuing. "Did you talk to him last night? Or were you supposed to?"

"We had planned a Skype session," I say, blushing a little at telling a perfect stranger this—and since it was a guy, I knew he'd come up with some dirty shit.

"Oh, kinky!" he says with a guffaw.

Yup. Total guy.

"Oh, shut up," Alice grumbles and I know that if he had been there, he would have gotten a nice Alice Smack across the stomach.

"Sorry, sorry," he says with another snicker. "What time were you supposed to meet up?"

"At eight but I, uh... forgot to take the time difference into consideration," I say sheepishly.

"Now that would explain a lot since you are _The _Bella," Emmett says with a sigh. "When Edward didn't show up early like he usually does, I called him to see what was up. He sounded weird. Kind of mad, kind of upset and kept saying 'just not good enough' every once in a while. I told him to get his ass to work and he grumbled something about 'the whiskey' and hung up. Next thing I know, it's ten thirty and he's still not there and I get a call from the Police Department asking if I'd like to accept a call from one Edward Mason, being held overnight for running a red light and driving under the influence."

"And arguing with the cops, apparently," Alice says, rolling her eyes.

I can't say anything.

I can't even fucking breathe.

"Bella?"

Edward. In jail.

"Bella, what did he mean?" Alice asks gently, her voice sounding much farther away than it really is.

"I think... it means..." I say slowly. "It means he does like me. That last night... missing our Skype session... was a big deal to him..."

I let out a long breath. The realization that I didn't completely fuck this up hits me and makes me grin stupidly the way I usually do when it involves him. Though I'm still pissed he got arrested, and basically because of me, I feel elated.

Now that I know he doesn't hate my guts, as long as he believes that I didn't actually skip out on our date, that is, maybe we could start over. Do this right.

"Wait, this is your fault?" Emmett asks, his voice getting a little high at the end.

"Well, not intentionally, dumbass," I say bluntly. "We got the times mixed up. Guess he didn't think about that either, if he was on at eight your time."

"Ah... and you were on at eight yours?" he asks.

"Meaning it was about ten _your_ time, and he was long-gone by then-"

"Getting arrested," Alice finishes for me matter-of-factly. I smack her on the arm and she recoils slightly. "What? It's true!"

"Thank you, Caption Obvious," I say with a frown. I turn to the phone to speak to Emmett. "Now what? Does he need someone to post bail or something?"

"Even if he did, I'm not paying to get his sorry ass out of jail," he says with a snort. "He's just there overnight. I can pick him up in about an hour. I think his car might have gotten impounded though."

"Damn, that sucks," I say, biting my lip in thought. "Listen, will you tell him we talked? Let him know that I was waiting for him? In fact, I'll email him a copy of my Skype history that says I was online when I was. And tell him... tell him that I'm sorry. And that I was really upset last night, too."

"Tell him yourself!" Emmett laughs, and then, as though he can feel the daggers in my eyes, he changes his tone. "Alright, I'll tell him. Do you want him to call or something?"

Alice starts bouncing again, tapping me hard on the leg, and mouthing at me.

_Skype! Skype!_

"Actually, I'm off today," I say with a smile. "Tell him to come find me on Skype. I'll be waiting, for as long as he needs me too."

"Could be a while," Emmett says knowingly. "He's a shy, stupid son of a bitch."

"Just tell him," I sigh heavily.

"You got it," he says and I hear the squeak of the infamous desk chair in the bar's office. "Oh! And what's the name of the little spit-fire there?"

"Her name is Alice," Alice chimes in, still grinning.

"Alice..." he says slowly. "You know, if you ever come this way, I might know someone that could be interested in taking you out."

"I sure hope it's not you," she scoffs.

"Ha! No, I get the feeling you're a bit too high-strung for me," he says, making Alice scoff.

"Good-bye, jackass," she snaps at him, picking up the laptop again.

"Yeah, bye Emmett," I say. "And thanks!"

"No problem, sweetheart," he says sincerely. "I can tell the guy really digs you."

"I sure hope so," I mumble under my breath.

After hanging up, I turn to Alice excitedly.

"Ready?" I ask her.

"Ready for what?" she asks without even looking up from the computer as she types out an email, her fingers flying furiously across the keys.

"We only have possibly an hour to two hours to get me ready for my first date with a sexy, British bar-man," I say and Alice's head whips around, her eyes shining. "Don't tell me you're going to pass up the opportunity to play with your favorite life-size dress up doll."

Alice squeals, bouncing so hard on the couch, that I'm afraid she's going to fly off.

"Go get out every bottle of bath salts and bubbles you own and I will draw you a bath!" she exclaims, putting down the computer and flying down the hall.

I laugh at her enthusiasm as Ben saunters into the room, tail held high. He looks a bit too smug for my taste.

"Aw, man, what did you do?" I ask with a groan. "I promise, you're still the number one man in my life."

He walks up to me, sits at my feet and purrs. I'm about to just ignore him and go do as Alice instructed when I hear a genuine scream coming from the bedroom.

"Bella! Get your ass in here and clean the shit out of my shoes before I murder your cat!" she shrieks. I look at Ben in horror.

"Just have to have me all to yourself, don't you, you selfish thing you?" I say, shaking my head.

With a sigh, I get up to get ready to finally see my Edward.

After I clean up some shit, of course.

* * *

**A/N: So Shadowed By Passion tells me that Emmett cracked her up. That was my goal! Did YOU like him? What did you think of Edward's night? Seems he got a bit upset about the whole situation. He's up next chapter (which I started already!) and I do believe this will be a bit of a turning point for these two. Hopefully they'll be less stupidity all around! lol. Review, if you would like. And like I said... If you don't like it, please feel free to ditch this. I wouldn't mind. I would much rather a reader enjoys the story than push on for the sake of finishing. I've flounced many a story for things as stupid as it didn't feel right at the moment. Feel free to go if that's what's right for you. Okay, I'll shut up now...**


	10. Chapter 10: Friday, Day Seven--EPOV

**A/N: So, I actually finished this a few days ago and sent it off to my Beta and, well... The edit was needed. Man, I am SO glad I have her now! I don't have much to say except that I hope I delivered here. I felt like I wrote it weird LOL.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Friday, Day Seven—EPOV 

"Masen! Get your ass up! You leave in thirty minutes!"

"Ugh..."

I roll over on the hard mat I had slept on all night and try to shield my eyes from the light filtering in through the bars.

Okay, so I didn't sleep so much as passed out.

I sit up and squint around me, searching the general vicinity for my specs until I realize that the warden took them.

Is that what they call them here?

Shit, my head hurts.

"You up, kid?" the officer shouts again.

"Yeah," I grunt, seriously wishing I could tell this bloke to sod off. He can't be much older than me yet I'm the bloody kid?

I sigh and look around my small cell.

It's a plain ten by ten cinder block room, all gray with a toilet in the corner. My bed is more like a camp bed with a threadbare blanket that I ended up using as a pillow instead of a blanket. My hopes, while in my inebriated state, were that if I supported my neck enough with the blanket wadded up beneath my head that I wouldn't wake up sore.

All I can say, again, is _ugh_.

For a moment, I forget how I ended up here until I hear two officers talking.

"Hey, got all the guy's stuff?"

"Yeah, cell phone, keys, glasses, wallet... what was he in for anyways?"

"Ran a red light and completely bombed the sobriety test. It was kind of weird. When I asked what he had been doing last night, he kept mumbling something about being all alone and that _she_ didn't call. It was a little sad."

"Shit," I mumble, dropping my head into my hands as the night comes rushing back.

_Looking over at the clock, I see that it's nearly nine. I sigh heavily, once again signing out of Skype and back in, too addicted to just give up._

_I have to see her._

_I need to see her._

_I'm dying to know the color of her eyes, to see that sweet smile on her face. Blimey. She's all I've thought about for a week now, whether I meant to or not._

_I take another sip of what Bella calls 'Liquid Courage'. Whiskey isn't normally my first choice of a drink, but it was all I found in our flat. _

_Clock reads 9:10._

_I told Emmett I would be in around 9:30 but if she doesn't show..._

_But why wouldn't she?_

_She was a bit cross with me, though she apologized for that. Maybe I'm not enough for her. _

_Maybe, she decided to go after that other bloke instead._

_She was so assertive when we talked. Isn't the man in the relationship supposed to be more... bloody hell, if I can't figure out what I'm supposed to be, how will I ever be in a relationship with her?_

_With anyone?_

_9:20._

_Might as well give up. She's just too much for me. I'll just settle down with the librarian around the corner that doesn't look like she shaves or combs her hair._

_9:30._

_I look down and see that my glass is empty... as is the bottle._

_I don't remember drinking all that..._

_I stand up shakily, looking around for my keys. I look sadly at the computer before finally signing out and shutting it down._

_Emmett rings me, asking if I'm still coming in. _

_"I don't know, mate," I mumble. "I was going to talk to," I paused and sighed, "but I'm just not good enough. I know that's gotta be why. I don't know."_

_"Dude, you okay?" Emmett asks. _

_"Yeah, this whiskey just—I'll be right there, just gotta—keys where are the keys? Oh, in my hand. Huh? Yeah, be right there, mate," I say in a slurred voice, barely keeping up with my own train of thought._

_"I can come get you—or you can stay in tonight," he says, sounding concerned._

_I consider it briefly, knowing I'm more than a little sloshed but I don't want to leave Em on a Friday night. Maybe when I get there I can make a coffee to sober me up._

_"No, I'll be right there," I tell him, and hang up on him as he starts to protest. I down a glass of water and then head out the door. _

_On my way out to the Volvo, I trip over nothing, twice, and then try to put the key to the flat in the door to the car—though I have one of those fancy buttons to automatically unlock it. _

_The lights and colors swirl around me as I drive to the bar. The speedometer jumps between twenty and thirty, but I can't tell if it's of my own doing or if my eyes are playing tricks on me._

_As I'm pulling up to a stoplight, I look down at my mobile. It hasn't rung all night. With a sigh I set it down and stare blearily at the road._

_Wait, is that light red?_

_Before I can react, I drive through it, my foot hovering over the brake. In seconds, red and blue lights flash behind me._

_"Ah, shit," I groan, trying to pull over smoothly, but I end up hitting the curb._

_When the officer comes to the window, he takes one look at me and orders me out of the car._

_"So sorry, mate, but I'm late for work," I try to say politely. "Any chance of getting a warning?"_

_"Please step out of the car, sir," he says firmly, his hand on what I assume is his tazer gun._

_"I'm perfectly all right, officer," I say, hearing the letters of the last word slur together stupidly._

_I sigh, getting out of the car and marching down to stand in front of the cruiser. The lights are still spinning, the headlights blinding me. I raise my hand to block it, but the officer gets the wrong idea._

_"Sir, please do not make any violent movements toward me or I will be forced to take action!" he nearly shouts at me._

_"Blimey, can you just turn off your lights?" I snap at him._

_"Please lower your hands!" he yells, taking a step back and holding up his hand, palm out. His other hand is still on his weapon._

_"All right! All right!" I shout back, turning my backs to the lights. "Happy?"_

_The man scowls at me and tells me to walk a straight line. I fail. He then tells me to recite the alphabet backwards. I get about halfway through, when I forget where I am and try to start over. He snaps at me that I need to continue from where I left off._

_"Who the bloody hell came up with a stupid test like that one?" I bark at him. "You've got to be mad to be able to do that. I'm no nutter, nor am I a genius."_

_The officer snorts as though he completely agrees with that last statement._

_"Find that funny, do you?" I say rudely, taking a step forward, but step on my shoelace and stumble to the side._

_Though I clearly failed every test, the officer still decides to give me a breathalyzer test. He shows me the digital read out with a shake of his head. It proves I'm over the .08 limit. My shoulder slump in defeat. _

_"All right, buddy, hands behind your back, you're going in," the man says wearily, pulling out a pair of handcuffs._

_"Going in where?" I ask stupidly, slowly putting my hands behind me._

_"The Drunk Tank," he says simply. "You need to sleep this off."_

_Once in the cruiser, the man asks what I had been doing all night._

_As though it wasn't obvious._

_"Nothing, I was all alone." I paused to think of Bella. " I wanted to talk to her, but she didn't show, didn't call. I should've called her, but that would have looked too needy. No, nothing, just did nothing. Nothing."_

The rest of the night after I was arrested is a vague blur. I lift my head up just as I hear a door squeak open.

"Cullen, your ride is here," one of the officers says, pulling out a large set of keys and unlocking the door to my cell.

"Emmett, thank God, get me out of here," I say, standing up quickly and striding over to where he stands, arms crossed over his chest and smirking. He holds out a large manila envelope clutched in his giant hands and I take it, hearing the contents of my pockets from the night before jingling in the pouch.

Emmett doesn't say anything until we're outside, blinking in the late morning light. He sighs heavily and, without looking at me, poses his first question.

"What's going on with you, dude?" he asks wearily.

"W-what do you mean?" I mutter nervously. It isn't very often that Emmett gets serious like this.

"You know damn well what I mean," he says angrily, turning and crossing his arms again: his muscles are tight and his posture tense. "Since when are you stupid enough to drive drunk? We work at a fucking bar, for crying out loud! You know better than to put an intoxicated stranger behind the wheel. Why would you do that shit to your best friend?"

"I'm sorry, Em," I sigh, looking down as I scuff my trainers on the cement. "I don't know what's gotten into me lately."

"I do," he grunts and I snap my head up, my eyes wide. "Bella."

"Well, yeah, I suppose, uh, I mean, uh," I stutter stupidly, my words trailing off. I look around and run my hands through my tangled hair.

"I talked to her," he says bluntly, his eyes glinting but his expression still grim.

"You did?" I ask in disbelief. "How? When? What did she say?"

"Calm down, boy," he laughs, loosening his stance and gesturing to his Jeep parked crookedly across the lot.

Only Emmett would park like a prat right by the police station and I tell him so.

"A what?" he asks, scrunching up his face.

"A prat. You know, like a jerk," I explain and Emmett snorts.

"Why didn't you just say that," he laughs. I sigh, slowing down slightly as I remember the time I talked about needing to take the time to learn the language here.

I hurry to catch up with him, still stunned that he got to talk to Bella—my Bella—and that I didn't.

"Well?" I demand when we're buckled into his car.

"She called the bar this morning, looking for you," he says, putting the keys in the ignition, but not starting the engine.

"Was she, uh, cross? Upset? Distraught?" I ask slowly.

"Not sure what that last one means, honestly," Emmett says, furrowing his brow in concentration before pointing at me, "but yes, she was upset."

"She's ready to chuck me, isn't she?" I ask dejectedly.

"Damn it, no she's not," he says, rolling his eyes and sighing heavily. "She wanted to know what happened to you last night and if you were okay. I told her what I knew and she seemed almost relieved that _you _weren't ready to chuck _her._"

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Emmett says, mocking my voice, before continuing in his normal tone, "have some balls, Edward. If you like the girl, go for it. She said she'll wait for you."

"She did?" I ask hopefully, eyes wide again.

"Yeah—literally and figuratively," he says and when I raise my eyebrows at him he looks at me like I'm stupid. "She's off today and will be waiting for you—literally—on Skype."

"What?" I say in an unnaturally high voice. My hands start shaking straight away and my palms begin to sweat. I stare at Emmett, not blinking, but struggling to comprehend what he just said.

"Just what I said," he says, sounding amused as he starts up the Jeep and pulls out of his wonky parking spot. "So, I would suggest wiping that freaked out look off your face, showering, getting something to eat and popping some Advil."

"I don't think I can eat right now," I mutter, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. My stomach churns, my nerves worse than the night before, now that I have to explain my absence.

Emmett shrugs and keeps driving, leaving me alone to deal with my mini-panic attack.

God, I could really use a ciggy.

An hour and a half later, I'm sitting in front of my blank computer, still trying to get myself to turn the damn thing on.

I've showered, shaved, put on some cologne—because of course Bella can smell me—and ate some baked beans on toast, my usual cure for a hang over. I was sorely tempted to take one shot of anything alcoholic but after last night, I know that's a bad idea. Plus, Emmett is right—I've developed somewhat of a bad habit.

"Dude!" Emmett shouts from behind me, making me jump so high that I nearly topple over in my chair. I turn to him with a glare.

"What?" I answer back sharply. He gestures at the computer, his eyes wide and beseeching. I sigh. "I'm nervous. What if she doesn't like me?"

He sighs, enters my room and sits on the edge of my bed.

"Look, you're my best friend, so I have to like you," he says lowly, "but that doesn't mean I can lie to you."

"Right," I say quietly, looking down at my lap and bracing myself for the worst.

"You're a nice guy," he says slowly.

"Uh, sorry?" I say, peeking up at him.

"You're a nice guy," he repeats with a shrug, his mouth turning up in a smirk. "Plain and simple. If she doesn't like you, then she doesn't like nice guys. But you've been talking for over a week. If that were the case, she wouldn't be there waiting."

On his final word, Emmett stands up and presses the power button on my computer. My breathing speeds up and I run my hands nervously through my hair, making the effort I took to comb it now pointless. Once the computer is powered on, Emmett takes a step back and drops his hand heavily on my shoulder.

"It's like a band-aid, bro," he says, "just rip it off in one pull."

But the worst that can happen when ripping off a plaster is pulling off your hair in the process. Might be less painful than being rejected by Bella...

"Stop thinking about it," he says tiredly.

"Right," I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

I nod my head once, grip the computer mouse and swiftly click open Skype.

The program automatically signs me in and I start to scoot myself away from the desk, fear, worry and a bit of nausea setting in, all at the same time. Emmett puts one hand on each shoulder and gives me a shove. My glasses slip down my nose with the movement and I push them up just in time to see my list of contacts.

The little icon next to Bella's name is green.

She's online.

She's waiting for me.

"Are you going to be a big boy now?" Emmett mutters, leaning down to my ear, "or do I need to keep holding your hand through this?"

"Piss off," I mumble, shaking him off.

"Atta' boy!" he chuckles. I listen to his heavy footfalls followed by the door closing before I click on Bella's name.

My shaking hands sit on the black keyboard, my mind willing them to move, but my muscles not cooperating. I take a deep breath, blow it out slowly and press three keys.

_**E: Hey**_

I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. I stare hard at the screen, not blinking, until I see the words _Bella is typing..._ and a huge smile lights up my face.

_Bella: Hey_

_**E: You're here...**_

_Bella: Just like I said, silly. How are you?_

_**E: Better now. I'm terribly sorry about last night.**_

_Bella: I was worried that... well, that you ditched me._

_**E: And I was worried you ditched me!**_

_Bella: Now why would I do a thing like that?_

_**E: Not sure. I'm not all that interesting...**_

_Bella: Says who? Tell me so I can punch them in the face._

_**E: Somehow, I can't imagine that. You don't look like that type.**_

_Bella: Ah, that's right... because you've seen a picture of me, huh? Bit of a one-sided relationship already going on here._

_**E: Oh my God, I'm such an idiot. I never should have done that. Please forgive me? I can send you a picture of me, straight away. I should have something here on this blasted thing. **_

_**E: Oh bugger, I forgot my hard-drive crashed a few weeks ago.**_

_**E: I could take a picture? Oh wait; I have a Facebook page... I could 'friend' you.**_

_Bella: Whoa! Calm down there, buddy! I was trying to tell you something!_

_**E: Sorry... guess I can even ramble in text.**_

_Bella: Quite the talent, I must admit._

_Bella: What I was trying to say is that I have seen a picture of you... sort of._

_**E: You have? How? Where? When?**_

_Bella: Yes. Alice. Facebook. Seven 'o clock this morning._

_**E: Uh... come again?**_

_Bella: Just answering your questions..._

_Bella: Yes I have... My friend Alice had a picture of you... on her Facebook from when she went into your bar... She showed me at seven this morning._

_**E: Oh. Right. I'm real clever...**_

_Bella: We'll blame it on your night last night._

_**E: Right, about that...**_

_Bella: Nope._

_**E: Uh... what?**_

_Bella: Don't want you to type it._

_**E: Oh. Guess Emmett already told you. I wouldn't want to hear it again either... **_

_Bella: Oh no, you're gonna tell me. Just not going to type it._

I'm about to ask her what the bloody hell she means, when an icon pops up in the middle of my screen.

_Bella is calling._

"Shit..."

I look wildly around my room, checking to make sure I don't have anything embarrassing lying out and that I did take the rubbish out. Things look just as they should so I turn back around, slowly, and click _Answer with video._

The video screen appears, but it's black. I can hear a rustling sound and someone breathing—presumably, Bella—but no image.

"Uh... hello?" I say tentatively.

"Shit! Ben! Move your fat ass!" I hear Bella say and I can't help but chuckle. "Edward? Are you there? Ben screwed something up."

"Yeah, I'm here," I answer, a smile lighting my face despite the technical difficulties. "Can't you see me?"

"Not unless you're sitting there in the dark," she says with a light laugh.

My God, that laugh...

"Oh, bugger, where is the webcam? I thought it was..."

I search my desk frantically, noticing that of all things in my room to clean, this should have been one of them. I shove aside bar receipts, paperwork and a load of other crap before I finally locate the cord to the camera. "Aha!"

As I'm pulling it up from behind the desk, Bella speaks up again—essentially distracting me from my task.

"Whoa, making me a little motion sick here," she jokes. "Just a tip: you might want to clean the dust bunnies out from behind your desk there."

"Shit, she must think I'm such a pig," I mutter.

"Naw," she says, and I can imagine her waving her hand in the air as she lets out a breathless laugh.

Could this girl be any more perfect?

As I'm trying to balance the camera on top of the computer monitor, I notice that my video feed is still blank.

"Are you having some problems there?" I ask, putting my tongue between my teeth as I adjust the circular device.

"Not... now..." she mumbles. "Ah there!"

We both look at the computer at the same time, a grin spreading across both our faces.

"Blimey..."

"My thoughts exactly," she replies breathlessly.

There, right in front of me, sits Bella. She has on a dark blue, fitted flannel shirt; the top few buttons undone to reveal a gray top beneath. Her hair is pulled off her face, but only the front part, so that I can see her beautiful eyes. The underside of her hair hangs down in front of her shoulders, curling slightly at the bottom.

My eyes tear away from her long, silky-looking hair to her pale, heart-shaped face.

Her cheeks are tinged a wonderful pink color, though I'm not sure if it's natural or make-up. Not that it matters. The lids above her dark eyes are dusted with a brown color to accent her chestnut hair and really make her eyes pop.

Her eyes.

"Brown," I mumble without even realizing.

"Purple?" she replies, raising an eyebrow and turning her head slightly.

"Sorry," I say, shaking my head. "Purple?"

"You said a color, so I said one back," she says with a shrug, her lips curling into an impish smile.

"Oh, geez," I say, slapping a hand to my forehead. "We finally truly meet and I say something as daft as a color."

"Well, does the color have a special meaning behind it?" she asks cheekily.

"Um, sort of, I suppose, I m-mean, to me at least," I stutter stupidly, my eyes cast down to my mess of a desk.

"Hey, buddy, eyes up here," Bella says and I look up to see her motioning to her face. "I've waited much too long to see you—don't keep your four-eyes off of me."

"Oh, already going for the name-calling, huh?" I smirk, suddenly at ease with our usual banter.

"Yeah, what are you going to do about it?" she asks, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, raising a brow again.

"Not a blasted thing," I say quietly, shaking my head again, but this time not letting my eyes leave her face.

"Good," she says with a triumphant smile. She leans forward, resting her arms on the surface in front of her. "I just gotta first say, um, wow."

"Uh, good wow or bad wow?" I ask with a slight cringe.

"Good, of course," she laughs. "The picture Alice showed me didn't-" she pauses, seeming to search for words. After a moment, she says, "well, here."

Bella furrows her brow, biting the corner of her lip and looking absolutely adorable. Her face momentarily disappears as she flips the camera around to show me her desktop. For a second, I see my puzzled face but then she clicks a window and brings up Facebook. The page is already opened to show a shot I remember taking very well.

"And I am where in this picture?" I ask, leaning closer to inspect the group shot.

"In the mirror," she says with a giggle.

"Ah, I see," I mumble, recognizing my reflection in the mirror.

"Yeah, didn't really help much," she says, changing her camera back to show herself. "Now tell me, what is the meaning behind brown?"

"It's, uh, the color of your, um, of your eyes," I mutter pathetically, looking down again.

"That it is," she says softly. "Would you like a closer look?"

I raise my head again to see her leaning forward, fluttering her big, chocolate eyes at the camera. I can see every lash framing her irises, brushing against the smooth skin of her brows. But they're not just brown; they're deep and inviting, holding secrets and love and...

"God, you're beautiful," I whisper. She sits back abruptly, her eyes now down.

"Uh, thanks?" she says uncertainly.

"Hey, eyes up here," I say softly, pointing at my face. She looks up with an embarrassed smile.

"What about you, Mister?" she asks, giving a genuine smile.

"Can't remember my full name now?" I joke.

"Geez, it got too long!" she says, rolling her eyes and then waving her hand at the screen impatiently. "Now show me!"

"All right, all right."

Feeling a little silly, I lean closer, removing my glasses and opening my eyes wide at the small lens.

"Wow, so, so fucking green!" she breathes. I bat my eyes at her and she giggles.

I lean back, replacing my second set of eyes, hoping she's satisfied, and sigh.

"This took way too bloody long," I complain.

"Ugh, tell me about it," she agrees, shaking her head. That gorgeous hair of hers sweeps across her chest, tangling a bit in one of the top buttons. She carelessly reaches up and uses those long, slender fingers to loosen the strands; the tips brush against the exposed skin of her collar bone.

I swallow thickly, darting my eyes up to hers. I find her staring at me intently, her head cocked to the side, her lips curling up in a sexy smirk.

"Well, what should we do now?" she asks quietly, her fingers still at the edge of her shirt.

"Um, I'm uh, not sure," I say with a shaky breath. "We could talk?"

"Yes, let's," she says, dropping her hand and leaning forward again. "You, sir, have some explaining to do."

I take a deep breath, nod my head and grimace.

"That I do," I agree. "Might take a mo'."

"Mo?" she asks with a snort.

"Uh, a moment? A while?" I clarify, squinting one eye shut in thought.

"Take all the 'mo's' you need," she says. "I'm not going anywhere."

I sigh again, in relief this time, and lean forward as well, ready to relive the previous night.

For her.

Anything for her.

* * *

**A/N: Finally, right? Well? I won't bug ya any more so you can press that lovely litten button and tell me you loved it-or not. I hope that's not what you'll say. Okay, tell me you loved it. Yeah. Hee hee...**


	11. Chapter 11: Friday, Day Seven PartIIBPOV

**Please, please don't hate me! I didn't mean to take forever on this but it's really hard to write and later edit when your guy sits at the computer ALL the time! Seriously, even if he's not using the computer, he sits in the chair! SO annoying... Plus, he's home at the same time I am now. I used to write in the evenings while I waited for him to come home and on Saturdays but I have had literally no time. *sigh* Anywho, here is the chapter, I hope you love it and me (still).  
**

* * *

Chapter 11: Friday, Day Seven Part II—BPOV

Holy mother of...

Is this seriously the guy I've been talking to for the past week?

I mean, I could tell he was hot in the reflection I saw in Alice's picture but shit... the guy I'm looking at on the computer...

Fuck me now.

Seriously, he could—okay, getting ahead of myself, yet again...or maybe not.

But really, that sexy mop that he calls hair, the square black frames that hide those ridiculously green eyes, that angular jaw; the way he runs his hands through his hair every couple of minutes—just everything about him—is perfect.

And apparently I find mops sexy now.

Well, when they are atop _his_ head...

I try to focus on his words as he tells me about his night, but I'll admit it's difficult. Listening to that accent was one thing but pairing it with this God-like creature is total mind-fuckery.

Once he finishes, with a huff, I rest my chin on my hand thoughtfully and purse my lips.

"So, basically, over the course of our, ah, relationship," I pause when I see his eyes glint at the word and try to hold back a smirk, "you have turned yourself into an alcoholic, just for me?"

"Ah, shit. It does sound like that, doesn't it?" he groans, dropping his head into his hands. He growls quietly—_holy shit_—and then runs his fingers through his hair, before looking up again. "No more. I promise."

"I don't mind the occasional drink, but if you're going to get shit-faced whenever we can't talk..." I trail off with a shrug, but then wrinkle my nose. "Though I must admit that I did the same thing last night when you didn't show."

"Ha!" he crows, pointing at me. When I raise my eyebrows, he lowers his hand and blushes. "Sorry. It's just nice to know, that, uh, that um I'm not..."

"Believe me, Edward," I say softly, "last night affected me too."

He smiles brightly and then changes the subject.

"So, what would you like to chat about?" he asks.

"I dunno," I shrug. I bite my lip; my thoughts turn to a look he had given me a few minutes ago. "What do you think?"

"Sorry?" he says, his brow furrowing.

"About, you know, me?" I say, gesturing stupidly at myself—as requested, his eyes haven't left my image.

"Perfect," he breathes, smiling nervously. "I mean, I knew you were already beautiful, b-but, um, that was just a picture. This..."

He sighs and shakes his head with a laugh. I cock my own head to the side, curious.

"What?" I ask softly.

"In a way, you're not what I expected," he says quietly. "I never thought someone like you would be interested in me. I'm just so... boring."

"You are anything but boring," I say truthfully, leaning forward again. He smiles, big and genuine, and I can tell he feels better just from those few words.

For the next two hours, we talk—about everything.

Family, friends, work, childhood—you name it, we discussed it; but I can tell there's more to him that I will never truly know until we meet, face to face, for real.

I sigh sadly at the thought.

"What's wrong?" he asks, noticing my change in mood.

"Will we ever meet, Edward?" I ask, speaking quietly to try to mask the shaking in my voice.

"I don't see why not," he says swiftly, crossing his arms on the desk. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Oh, I don't know," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Maybe because you live halfway across the country?"

"Can't you just, you know, hop on the train and travel here?" he asks seriously, shrugging. "Ticket can't cost all that much."

"Even in the heart of Seattle, a cafe owner doesn't make nearly enough to just _hop on the train,_" I say with a giggle, mimicking his accent. "This isn't Europe, doofus. You can't spend a day traveling and get very far."

"Oh, I forgot," he says dejectedly, his eyes casting down.

"Hey, but you're right," I say, hurrying to reassure him. "There's no reason why we shouldn't meet—someday."

We sit and stare at each other, green into brown, chocolate into emeralds, until I realize I'm not really breathing. I take in a shaky breath and glance down at the clock—and my battery life.

"Oh, shit!" I cry, searching around frantically.

"What is it?" Edward asks quickly, his eyes roaming the screen, as he attempts to help in my search.

"My laptop is going to die, and fucking Alice did something with my charger," I growl, looking under the coffee table and across the room to the counter top. "Damn."

"No, don't go!" he says, as I start to stand to continue my search. "I should probably go anyways. I need to go down to the Police Station and pay my fine."

"Are you saying you want to stop talking?" I joke, quirking an eyebrow as I settle back into my seat.

"What? No! God, no," he answers immediately. "I just want to get this over with."

"All right, handsome, as long as you promise me one thing," I say, leaning forward as he cocks his head curiously. "Be good."

"You got it," he says with a chuckle, before turning serious again. "Bye, Bella."

"Bye, Edward," I sigh.

"This won't be our, uh, last time chatting like this, will it?" he asks uncertainly.

"Hell no," I say with a smile.

We look at each other for a few more seconds, before we end the call at the same time.

I hear a noise outside my door, like footsteps and the muffled jingle of keys. I roll my eyes and push the laptop away.

"Alice!" I yell, tilting my head back.

The door opens immediately and Alice pokes her head in; her hair is smooth and shiny today.

"Good morning, sunshine!" she trills, prancing in wearing a bright red wrap dress and sparkly heels. "Wanna do lunch?"

"How long were you listening at the door?" I ask, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows.

"I just got here," she says a little too innocently. When I huff at her she rolls her eyes. "Fine, I've been here for five minutes, but you've been gone for-fucking-ever!"

"I was only gone for two hours," I shrug. "It would have been long if _someone_ hadn't hidden my damn laptop charger! Mary Alice!"

"Oh, ew, ew, ew, don't call me that!" she complains, scrunching up her nose and flapping her hands. "I didn't hide it. It's in your room, dummy."

"I'm still blaming you," I say jokingly, getting up and heading toward the kitchen.

"So..." Alice says slowly.

"So what?" I ask, pouring myself another cup of coffee. I keep my back to her, stalling.

"Holy shit, Swan! Spill it!" she squeaks. "How was it? What did you talk about? When are you talking again? Is he going to try coming here one day?"  
"Fuck, Alice, slow down and take a breath," I laugh, turning to her with a goofy grin on my face. "It was amazing. He's so sweet, so cute—well, fucking hot actually—and we talked about everything. Anything."

"Did you do anything naughty?" she asks slyly, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Pfft, no," I say, sipping my drink. "He was checking me out though."

"Well, obviously," Alice says, propping her feet up on the coffee table. "I mean, _I _was the one that dressed you."

"Yeah, yeah, you're awesome, whatever," I say, waving my hand. "Are we going to lunch or not?"

Alice pops up and rushes to my room, returning with my sneakers and purse. I laugh as I put my shoes on quickly, giddy from my chat with Edward and eager to go out with my best friend.

* * *

"Tell me, when are we planning our trip to Chicago?" Alice asks, spearing another bite of salad that drips with Italian dressing.

"Uh, what?" I ask, my own forkful of lettuce halfway to my mouth. We haven't even been sitting down to lunch for five minutes and she's already asking about Edward.

"You heard me," she says, after swallowing and wiping her mouth. "When you go to meet your Prince Charming, I am _so _going with you. You _know_ that, right?"

"Now I do," I mumble, poking at my food. "I really don't know."

"But you want to, right?" she presses.

"_So _bad, Alice, but how could I afford it?" I ask and when I see her open her mouth to speak, I hold a hand up to stop her. "Please don't play your daddy card. I know he would do just about everything for me but I just couldn't ask for something like that."

"Well, what about Charlie?" Alice asks. "He has money."

We both pause and look up at each other, before bursting into laughter. I can see the other patrons of the restaurant staring at us as we roll around in our seats, clutching our stomachs and laughing so hard it hurts.

"Okay, okay, stupid question," Alice gasps, wiping her eyes before her makeup gets ruined.

"Just slightly," I say breathlessly, using my napkin to dry my own eyes. I sigh heavily. "Yeah, it would be nice, but not an option."

We lapse into silence, both of us thinking hard. Suddenly, Alice slams her hand down on the table, making our iced teas nearly topple over.

"Got it!" she yells.

"Geez, Alice," I complain, grabbing the drinks. I wipe the spilled tea off my fingers and wait for her to continue.

"We're going to raise the money to get you to Chicago," she announces happily.

"Seriously?" I ask blankly and she nods. "But...how?"

"Carwash?" she suggests.

"What are we, slutty high school girls?" I ask.

"Maybe a little slutty," she shrugs. I shake my head. "Okay, bake sale?"

"Last I checked, we weren't seventy year old women," I say with a snort. "Though you do make awesome pie."

"That I do," she says, nodding in agreement. "And you, missy, make amazing brownies."

"Uh, the last time I made you brownies was in college and they had pot in them," I point out.

"Oh, right," she mumbles and then waves her hand dismissively. "Still good. I could probably get Rose in on this. She may have some ideas."

"Oh! I know!" I say, my face brightening, remembering one of my earlier conversations with Edward. "We should have a band or something play at the cafe."

"You know, I think I remember Rose saying something about her brother being in a small band," she says thoughtfully. "He lives in Texas, but I'm pretty sure I heard her mention him coming to town soon to visit."

"Perfect," I say happily, a plan already forming in my head. "I'll make up a flyer to put in the cafe and around town and you can help me organize it. We could have, maybe, three bands?"

"Let's make a weekend out of it!" she exclaims, clapping her hands together.

"Okay, when should we do it?" I ask, getting more excited by the second.

"Next weekend, definitely," Alice nods, pulling out her phone. "I think I can stretch our meetings out, so that we can stick around longer and I have a few favors I can call in to stay even longer, if you need me to."

"If it were up to me, I'd have you stay forever," I say truthfully.

* * *

I stop by the cafe in the evening, just for the hell of it, and find Jacob in a mood. He's slamming things around, muttering under his breath and huffing a lot. I stand at the counter for a couple of minutes as he paces around obliviously, a murderous look on his face.

When he still doesn't see me there, I clear my throat loudly. He turns quickly, a fake smile on his face, until he sees it's only me.

"Oh, hey," he says grumpily, wiping his hands on his apron. "What's up?"

"Just coming to check in," I say slowly, looking around. "Where's Angela?"

"I sent her home early," he grumbles. "She was sick."

"Jake, you know I can't have only one employee on the floor—especially on a Friday," I say, crossing my arms. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Because you had your big date with Mr. Dreamy," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Excuse me?" I say with a raised brow.

"Just enjoy it while it lasts, Bella," he spits out, slamming around as he starts more coffee. "Sometimes it just takes one shit-storm to ruin the entire fucking thing."

"Hey!" I say in a slightly raised voice, looking around at the few patrons in the cafe. "Watch your mouth, Jacob Black. You are _working_ right now and representing _my_ business. If you can't behave accordingly, then you can leave."

I glare at him and he stares right back, his face as hard as stone until finally, he relents. His shoulders slump and his head dips, as sorrow overtakes his features.

"I'm sorry, Bella, you're right," he says quietly, scrubbing his face with his hands.

I come around the counter and place a hand on his arm. He looks at me and sighs.

"Talk," I say simply.

"Leah wants a divorce," he says sadly.

"What?" I say, blinking in surprise. "Why? When?"

"This morning," he says, leaning against the counter behind him. "She says that things just don't feel right. Whatever the hell that means."

"I'm sorry, Jake," I say, rubbing his arm soothingly. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Just give me lots of work, keep me busy," he says with a small smile.

"Do you need a place to stay?" I ask, thinking of my miniscule couch.

"Naw, she's staying with her sister," he says, waving his hand.

"Just... lemme know," I say, seeing a customer walk up.

As Jake goes to help her, I grab an apron and get to work; my mind works all the while on both solutions for my friend and our upcoming plans for the next weekend. Alice comes in after a while and I send Jacob off to talk to her, hoping that if I get him busy with the plans for the fundraiser, that it'll take his mind off of things. I let Alice do all the explaining as to what we are raising money for. Jacob's earlier comment about Edward still stings slightly.

I'm at the espresso machine, making a drink when suddenly two bear-like arms wrap around me from behind.

"Bella Swan, I will do everything I can to get you and your man together," Jake booms in my ear. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was a jerk and you deserve your happily ever after."

"Um, thanks?" I gasp, wheezing out a laugh. He lets go and I turn to see him grinning down at me. "You really mean that?"

"Yes," he says sternly. "I'm going to prove to Leah that I can make someone happy, and that person is my best friend."

"Aw, Jake," I say hoarsely, throwing my arms around him as I feel my eyes tear up.

Jake's mood improves as the afternoon wears on. Rosalie shows up with a girl just as tiny as Alice, introducing her as Nessie, her intern. She has a young, peachy face and long, light brown hair that waves just slightly. Her eyes are a deep brown color, which I see flickering to Jacob every once in a while as he works behind the counter. She's cute, but probably too young for him.

"All right, girls, so far everything is working out perfectly," Alice says happily. She, Rose, Nessie and I are sitting at a back table together, planning the following weekend. "Rose says that her brother agreed to extend their trip to include playing here for us. Nessie's cousins are in a band too, and they're based in Portland, but a couple of the members go to school here in Seattle, so it would be no problem to make a trip this way."

"Awesome! Any other ideas?" I ask, looking around at my friends.

"Well, we have two bigger bands playing," Nessie speaks up, speaking softly, with a slight accent that I can't quite place. "What about a solo act? Maybe an acoustic player?"

"Oh, that would be good!" Alice coos. "Know anyone?"

"Um, yeah," she says shyly, looking down at her fidgeting fingers. "M-me."

Alice and I smile hugely. Rose gives a small smirk, playing it cool like always.

We find out that Nessie is twenty-one and though she loves fashion, she's musically trained on the piano and guitar. Her lessons began when she was seven years old, but once she hit high school, they slowed as she became involved in cheerleading and, later, fashion design. She graduated high school early, went to college and now, her job with Rose is her first real job. Though she loves what she does, she admits to missing her musical life and takes every opportunity she can to perform.

After discussing music for a few more minutes, we launch into more ideas to raise money and decide on selling baked goods and having a raffle. Alice draws a mock-up of a poster we can put up, advertising the need for donations to give away as prizes—gift cards, food baskets, artwork. The evening rush halts my involvement in the planning, but I trust these ladies wholeheartedly in getting me to my goal in seeing my Edward.

* * *

I head home that night, exhilarated after my productive day, and eager to try to get a hold of Edward again, if only for a few minutes. We've only spoken "face-to-face" once and he's already like a damn drug. I need him with every fiber of my being.

I bound up the stairs of my apartment building and skip down the hall to my place. I dig out my keys, but as I raise them in anticipation to unlock my door, I see that it's already wide open. Broken glass litters the floor just outside the doorway, along with a metal crowbar. I freeze, still a good ten feet from away, and begin backing up slowly. My heart is pounding painfully against my ribs. When I reach the stairs, I turn around and sprint down them, tripping slightly on the bottom step.

As I fly into the front lobby, the young girl manning the front desk looks at me strangely, as she pauses in the act of packing up her things for the night. I approach her breathlessly and speak in a shaky whisper.

"Hey, um, did someone come here looking for me?" I ask quietly. "I'm in apartment 7C."

"I don't think so," she answers slowly, tucking her honey-blonde hair behind her ears, as she consults the sign-in sheet. "There have only been three visitors today—one for floor A and the other two for floor B. Though there was a guy that came in and refused to sign in."

"What did he look like?" I ask, my voice wavering. I can feel my whole body quivering.I grip the strap of my purse so tightly that my knuckles turn bone white.

"I don't know, he kept his hood up," she says apologetically, scrunching up her nose in thought. "Um, he was probably a little taller than you, thin build. He was wearing all black. Sorry."

"Um, yeah, thanks," I say, pulling out my phone with fumbling fingers.

"Is there a problem?" she asks warily.

"Call the police," I answer flatly. "Someone broke into my apartment."

"Oh, shit," the girl mumbles, lunging for the desk phone.

I fall into a nearby chair and call the first person I can think of—Edward. It rings multiple times, but goes to voicemail. I look down at my phone, noting that the bar is normally in full swing at this time, and that he must be busy. I leave a message, trying to speak calmly, but my voice cracks on nearly every word as my eyes well up.

"Hey, Edward, it's, um, me... Bella. Well, duh, it's Bella, I'm sure it says you have a missed call from me. And as far as I know, I'm the only girl you talk to. I mean, like, well, you know what I mean. Um, yeah, sorry, uh, I'm just a little shaken up here. Someone broke into my apartment. I have no idea who it was and I haven't gone in yet. The girl at the front desk is calling the police now and I just, I don't know, I just wish... I wish you were here. Call me back, please, no matter the time. I miss you already."

I hang up quickly and dissolve into tears. I gasp when I remember Ben, alone in the apartment all day and hope that he's okay. I jump as I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see the big blue eyes of the girl.

"The police are on their way," she says quietly. "Is there anyone you can call to come be with you?"

"No... yes!" I say, suddenly remembering my _new best friend_. I unclench my fingers from around my phone and bring up Tyler's name.

"Hey, beautiful," he says cheerfully. "It's a little late—not that I'm complaining. What's up?"

"Tyler?" I say brokenly.

"Bella? What's wrong?" he asks, instantly alarmed.

"Someone broke into my apartment-" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"I'll be right there," he interrupts and hangs up.

Tyler makes it to my apartment in record time, striding into the building in dark gray sweatpants and an Air Force sweatshirt. He sees me huddled in my chair and rushes over to me,. He squats down in front of me and wipes at my tear-stained face.

"Bella, tell me what happened," he says softly, his eyes crinkled in worry.

"I don't know, I just came home, fucking ecstatic after my awesome day, and I found my apartment door wide open and—shit, I have no idea where Ben is. I hope he's okay—you know how he doesn't do well with strangers, and this jackass was in there smashing stuff, scaring the crap out of him-"

"Hey, hey, calm down," he says soothingly, halting my ramblings and pulling me into a hug. "We'll fix this, don't worry."

I sniffle into his sweatshirt, breathing heavily as I attempt to stem my tears.

"Now, you said you don't know where Ben is?" he asks quietly, running a hand down my back. I nod into his shoulder and he pushes me back slightly. "Wait here."

"Wait, what?" I ask, watching in surprise as he springs up and jogs to the staircase. "Tyler! You can't go up there, the police are-"

I stop myself with a sigh, knowing it's pointless to try to stop him. I wait nervously, biting my lip, but he isn't gone long. In no time he's back with Ben in his arms.

"Ben!" I sigh, reaching out to him. He squints at me, purring loudly, and curls up against my chest. I look up at Tyler and ask reluctantly, "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," he says, grimacing. "I didn't touch anything, but the bag of treats on the counter. That sent Ben running. You're running low on them, by the way."

"On treats?" I ask, furrowing my brow as he nods. "I don't have any. I can't keep them in the apartment—even if they're in the cupboard, Ben can get to them and will eat the bag to get to the inside."

"Yeah, it was almost empty," Tyler says slowly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

"Excuse me, is that your cat?" the girl from the front desk asks me. I nod as she scratches his ears. "I think someone heard him crying earlier."

"Oh, I'm sure that was some other cat," I say, surprised that Ben is putting up with a stranger touching him. "Ben doesn't cry."

"I checked the logs and he's the only cat in the building," she says with a shrug, going back to her place behind her desk.

"That son of a-" I growl, suddenly feeling angry. "The jerk who broke in must have bribed him to shut up."

"And they came prepared. Who knows you have a cat?" Tyler asks glancing at the door as a cop walks in.

"Uh, I dunno," I say, shaking my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think. I don't have many friends, the product of a fairly anti-social life, and only my closest friends know about Ben and his fetish for treats.

Before I can think about it any longer, the cop is in front of me, holding a hand out to shake mine.

Stupid fucking handshakes.

"Hi, are you Bella Swan?" he asks. "I'm Officer Paul Lahote. Why don't we go take a look at the damage and then have a talk?"

I nod briefly and lead him up the stairs, Tyler by my side. I glance over my shoulder and notice Officer Paul is walking slowly, his eyes roaming the staircase. His dark eyebrows are pulled low and he shakes his head when we reach the third floor.

Guess he didn't find anything interesting.

I gesture down the hall at my open door and Office Paul steps forward, one hand on his weapon.

"It's doubtful there's anyone still in there," he murmurs, "but let's be safe."

I watch nervously, clutching Ben to my chest, as he approaches my door. He enters slowly and after less than half a minute, emerges again, both hands by his sides. He nods. Tyler puts a hand on my back and walks with me to the door.

I gasp when I see the scene before me.

The lamp that was once in my living room is now shattered across the floor, the shade crumpled up and lying a few feet from the lamp itself. The pillows from the couch have large rips torn into them and the living room floor is covered in bits of fluff. Papers, some shredded and others crumpled, are everywhere. A few of the cupboards in my kitchen are open; dishes are strewn across the counter as well as a few broken on the floor. I tread carefully over my broken coffee maker in the middle of my room and make my way toward the bedroom.

A cold breeze blows in through the broken window, fluttering the curtains. My covers are ripped from the bed and clothes are everywhere—on the bed, the floor, the windowsill, spilling out of the dresser. And there, next to my bed, is my laptop.

I kneel down, dropping Ben to the floor and covering my mouth with a shaking hand as tears spring to my eyes.

My laptop was my first big purchase when I moved into this apartment a few years ago. It was my pride and joy and, just recently, my best and most favorite form of communication with Edward. And now it's destroyed beyond repair, with the keyboard detached and the screen cracked. A few plastic pieces of the casing are scattered around it as well as a few keys.

"Bella?" Tyler calls down the hall. He joins me on the floor and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

"Who would do this?" I whisper sadly.

"I don't know," he answers quietly, glancing around the room forlornly. "Did they take anything?"

"No," I say incredulously. "That's the thing, they took nothing but destroyed everything."

I take a deep, shuttering breath and close my eyes, willing things to go back to this afternoon when everything was perfect. When I was planning my trip to Chicago to see Edward, sitting in a cozy booth with one of my oldest friends and some new ones, all of us laughing and drinking coffee. When I was sitting in front of a computer screen, looking into the greenest eyes I've ever seen and imagining what they would look like not through a camera's lens.

I open my eyes again to the destruction and take another breath, steeling myself.

"We'll find the fucker who did this," I say confidently, nodding once.

"Hell yes, we will," Tyler agrees enthusiastically.

We both stand and I walk back out to the living to talk with Officer Paul, my head held high.

"I'm so sorry for all of this," Officer Paul says apologetically. "And I was wondering, are you related to Chief Charlie Swan by any chance?"

"Yeah, I am," I say, crossing my arms and planting my feet firmly on the ground.

"Would you like me to give him a call-"

"No," I interrupt him brusquely. "I'm a big girl. I can handle this."

Officer Paul looks at me quizzically for a moment. I raise a brow in challenge and he smirks.

"Well done, Ms. Swan," he says, pulling out a notebook and pen. "I admire your strength. You truly are the chief's daughter."

I smile tightly, knowing it was definitely Chief Swan who made me this way, but not for the reason that Office Paul thinks.

"Oh, you have no idea," I mutter.

* * *

**Yeah, I know... a cliffie. I'm evil! Any ideas as to who it might be? Leave me LOVE!**


	12. Chapter 12: Saturday, Day Eight--EPOV

**So, um, yeah. Hi. It's been a while, I know. There has been SO much going on! The kid has been acting up a LOT at school, we struggled through the second assistant for a while and just recently fired her but that meant I had to work more, I got flu-like sick 3 times in the last two months on top of four back to back colds (seriously, I was normal for maybe a week and a half!), I had an awesome bday surprise from my guy (night off at a fancy hotel!) so LOTS happening. Also, I'm like obsessed with Doctor Who now and I've been watching that a lot. It does give me more awesome British terms, though! Yesterday, I had to run the daycare by myself cuz my boss was sick (EVERYONE has gotten what's called the Norovirus. Ask me for details. It's gross) so I was in at 6:45 after maybe 5 hours of sleep and worked until 4:30. LONG day but the kids had a great nap so I busted out the end of this chapter and started the next! I would have kept going but the baby in daycare woke up upset so I had to hold her and then the other kids were up. Okay, I'll stop yammering. I hope you like this chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Saturday, Day Eight- EPOV

"Bloody hell, you wanker, just shove off!"

I know I shouldn't yell at customers, but blimey, this bloke has been here since we opened and hasn't left his stool, except once to use the toilet. I cut him off an hour and a half ago and he's still here, winding me up.

I look at my watch. It's nearly two-thirty in the morning and I hop Bella will call at some point to relieve me from my horrid night. Friday nights always bring out the worst people, all wishing to get drunk and make my night miserable. This one in particular has been whining since he got here and can't seem to take a hint.

"No, sir," he slurs, still unbelievably drunk. "I want to know why you won't give me more drinks! I'm a paying customer, damn it!"

"You are also past your limit, now piss off!" I say loudly, taking away his untouched glass of water. I reach into my pocket for my mobile, but don't find it. I search the shelf space under the bar top; it's not there either.

The ass at the bar snickers, covering his mouth with his hand.

"What?" I demand, but this only makes him laugh harder. "What the bloody hell are you laughing at?"

"You Brits and your 'bloody hell'," he chuckles, shaking his head. He looks up when I growl quietly. "Did you lose something?"

"What's it to you?" I ask, my face turning bright red. I cross my arms over my chest, determined not to knock this guy's head in.

"Well, I just may know where it is," he says smugly, his bloodshot eyes filled with glee.

"Shit, just tell me!" I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Wanna give me back my glass of water?" he says, stifling more laughter.

"You weren't drinking it!" I snap, dropping my hands back to my sides.

The man snickers and raises an eyebrow at me. I scowl and grab the glass, trying not to slam it down on the wooden surface in front of him. I cross my arms again and glare at him. His blurry eyes flicker down to the water and back up to me again. I knit my brow in confusion and look down.

There, floating between the ice cubes is my mobile. I gasp and plunge my hand into the freezing water, shaking off the device as I grab a dry rag. The man laughs hysterically, pounding his fist on the bar and shaking his head. I glare at him and start to lean forward so I can wring his bloody neck, but a hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Dude, if you don't take off _now_, I am calling the police," Emmett says from behind me. "That's a promise, not a threat."

The man eyes Emmett's bulging muscles and quickly slips off his stool, shooting us a dirty look as he stumbles out into the early morning.

"Blimey, mate," I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "Thanks, Em."

"That guy was a fucking prick," he says, shaking his head. "I'm glad you didn't just punch his lights out."

"Believe me, I was bloody close," I say with a dry chuckle and hold up my dripping phone.

"Aw, dude," Emmett groans, taking the mobile gingerly between two fingers. "This fucking blows. Hey, I think I heard a trick about putting it in rice, hold on."

As Emmett heads into the office, I serve a few more customers, doing my best to keep a pleasant smile on my face, all the while still fuming inside. Before long, he returns holding a bowl of the dry grain clutched in his big hands. Why there is rice in the office, I have no damn clue.

"Okay, we just take the whole thing apart and put it in here for like an hour or something," he says, placing the pieces I hand him deep within the rice.

About an hour and half later as we're clearing out the bar, we discover that my mobile is not able to be saved. Though it did dry out, the blasted thing won't power on. With a dejected sigh, I chuck it onto the desk in the office and follow Emmett out to head back to our flat.

I flop down onto our couch in the living room and quickly accept the beer Emmett offers me. We sit in silence, sipping our drinks, until I decide to speak, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"I hate fucking drunks," I mumble, my eyes staring straight ahead. I feel Emmett's quiet chuckle shake the couch.

"Well, man, you got into a shitty business then," he answers, slapping my knee.

"I don't remember it being like this in Britain," I complain, downing my beer. "I mean, sure people got drunk on the weekends, but I don't remember fucking whingers like him, crowding up the bar."

"Fucking what? What the hell are whingers?" he asks, turning to me in confusion.

"Uh, people that complain," I say, rubbing my face vigorously.

After saying our good-nights, we head off to our rooms. I strip down to my boxers and fall onto the bed, not bothering to pull the covers over me. Though my body is tired, my mind is racing, going through all the events of the night. The last thought before sleep overtakes me is that I there's something I am forgetting.

Before I can try to think of what, though, darkness takes me.

* * *

I sleep like shit during the night, tossing and turning as random things flash through my unconscious brain; my poor, soaked mobile, drunk bastards laughing at me, soft brown hair and big, chocolate eyes—

I sit bold upright in bed, the sheets tangled around my mid-section.

"Oh, fuck!"

I twist around to look at the clock, noting that I had slept until nearly lunch—a very odd thing for me to do, and wonder where the hell my flatmate is.

I throw on some pajama pants and stumble out the door. I find Emmett sitting on the couch, a bowl of cereal in his hands and his bare feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he says around a mouthful of cereal. "How's our girl?"

"Huh?" I say stupidly, pausing in my pursuit of the kitchen where the fresh brewed coffee is waiting for me.

"Weren't you busy with Bella?" he asks, milk dripping down his chin. "I assumed that was why I didn't see you until the crack of midday."

"No, I wasn't," I moan, shuffling toward the fridge. "My mobile is sitting in pieces at the bar, remember?"

"Don't you naughty kids use a webcam too?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me. I roll my eyes as I pour a splash of milk into a mug and add a scoop of sugar.

"For one, I didn't think of that," I admit, pouring coffee into my cup. "And second, it was in the middle of the night there when we finally got home."

Emmett shrugs and returns his attention to the TV. I amble back to my room, feeling like a prat for not thinking of Skype earlier. If she hadn't heard from me on the mobile, surely she would wait online for me.

I sign into the program quickly but my eagerness disappears when I see that she's no where to be found; not even a message. I frown and type out a message to her.

_Hey, Bella. I'm so sorry about last night. A drunk idiot dropped my mobile into a glass of water, so it's completely destroyed. I had hoped to find you here but, well... you're not. I've been thinking of you constantly and can't wait to speak again. Cheers._

I send off the note and sit looking at my computer for a few minutes. When the screen doesn't light up with a reply, I turn away with a sigh and go take a shower.

Twenty minutes later, I'm feeling refreshed but still down.l I shuffle into the living room, thinking about what to have for lunch. A fry up sounds good enough so I pull some eggs and sausage out of the fridge, flick on the cooker and set a pan on the hot flame.

I'm about to crack the eggs into the pan when there's a knock at the door. I set aside the food and go answer, wiping my hands on my jeans as I go. I open the door curiously and take a step back when I see who it is.

"Mum?"

"Hello, sweetie," she says softly, clutching her pink hand bag closely to her body.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, watching as she shifts her feet nervously. Though I don't live in that shabby of an apartment, compared to home, mum looks completely out of place in her silk blouse and pencil skirt.

"Oh, yes," she answers, glancing over my shoulder. "Is Emmett home?"

"I don't think so," I shrug, my hand still clutching the door handle. I open it a bit wider and gesture into the room. "Do you want to come in?"

"Oh... oh yes," she says again with a smile, entering slowly. I never see mum this nervous and it's putting me on edge.

"Mum, are you sure everything is all right?" I ask, following her to the couch. "I don't even remember the last time you came to my flat, if ever."

"You're quite right, dear," she says with a quiet chuckle but quickly becomes serious. "I've just felt awful since our dinner party. Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone? It was so rude of me to try to set you up with someone else."

"Uh... what?" I say, curious as to how she found out.

"Don't be silly, sweetheart. I could tell that you and Jane didn't hit it off," she says, placing a hand on mine. "You weren't your normal awkward self, you were much more than that."

"Blimey, thanks mum," I say dryly, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, you know what I mean," she says, patting my hand. "I could just tell something was different. So, tell me all about her."

I look up at mum's expectant face and am lost for words. I've never told her about my intimate relationships—not that I had many to share—and how do you tell your mum that you're in love with a girl you've never met?

Wait...what?

"Oh, go on, tell me something," she encourages, settling back on the couch. I suddenly remember that I had the cooker on and jump up. Maybe keeping busy while I talk will make it a bit easier.

"There's not much to tell, mum," I admit, cracking the eggs onto the hot pan. I add the sausages and start stirring it all with a spatula. "We haven't even gone on an official date yet."

I glance over my shoulder to see her frowning.

"What's her name?"

"Bella," I answer, sighing a little.

"Is she as beautiful as her name suggests," she asks softly as her lips pull up in a smile.

"More so, mum," I say, flipping over the eggs and then turning around more fully. "Problem is, we've never met in person. I met her online, technically."

"I'm not too surprised, given this day and age," mum says, relieving my worry about her reaction. "Does she live far?"

"Washington state," I say with a grimace. She frowns as well.

"That does pose a slight problem," she admits with a nod before smiling broadly. "Well, if you would like us to lend you the money for a plane ticket, all you need to do is ask."

"Mum, you know it wouldn't be a loan," I say, placing a hand on my waist. "You never ask for the money back."

"The offer is there, sweetie. All you need to do is ask," she says with a shrug, gathering up her bag. "Well, that was all I wanted to say. If you care to share anything more, you know who to ring."

She stands and comes up to me, putting her hand on my rough cheek.

"You need a shave, my love," she says.

"Bye, mum," I mumble. She smiles and lets herself out.

As I sit on the couch with my fry up, I consider mum's offer. Could I really accept her money and fly halfway across the country to see Bella, completely unannounced? Would she be okay with that or would she slam the door in my face? I don't even know if she's cross with me at the moment, given she hasn't contacted me lately. I push the thought from my mind, knowing that I'm just overreacting again.

After I eat, I head to the bar where I find Emmett sitting at a booth; the table top is covered in paperwork. His hands are gripping his hair as he hunches over his work.

"Hey, mate, I told you I would take care of that," I say, slapping him on the shoulder. I sit across from him, noticing his lips move slightly as he reads.

"Yeah, well, I knew you had a shitty night, so I was going to try to tackle some of the work," he says, sitting back and rubbing his eyes.

"How much did you get through?" I ask, shuffling around a few papers.

"Um..." he hums, scratching his chin. "Half a folder?"

"Out of how many?" I ask with a chuckle, noticing he probably has a month worth of shit here.

"Twelve?" he says, scrunching up his face.

"I got this," I say with a shake of the head. "Thanks for trying, mate."

It takes a while to get my head into my task; my thoughts are only on Bella. I wonder what she's doing; if she's thinking about me, if she's worrying about the fact that she can't get a hold of me. My mind runs in circles and I soon find myself imagining what it would be like to meet her, for real, in person. I can only hope that I live up to her expectations. I already know she will reach way beyond mine. Really, it can't be too hard to fly to see her. Mum already offered to send me and I could find a way to pay her back somehow.

I feel my adrenaline spike at the idea of finally putting myself out there and going after a girl. My palms get sweaty and my vision blurs. Never in my life have I actually chased after what I wanted; even the bar was something that Emmett had to convince me to do.

I shake my head slightly, trying to rid myself of such ridiculous thoughts. Even if I do decide to go visit Bella, surely I should ask permission first. Unfortunately, asking her will have to wait, because at this moment, I need to focus on my work.

I spend the afternoon pouring over bills and invoices, making a sizable dent before the early crowd starts making their way in. After I put away the stuff, I see Emmett talking to someone at the bar and shaking his hand. When I get closer, I see it's our good mate, Jasper.

"What brings you here?" I ask as I shake his hand.

"Well, the band and I have been touring the country and I thought I would surprise you two with a performance," he says, his southern accent just as thick as my own English one.

"Set up, mate," I say, waving my hand at the small, empty stage set in the back corner. I follow him out to his van to help grab his equipment. "Where else have you been?"

"All over, man," he says, placing the strap of a guitar case over one shoulder and grabbing the amplifier for it with the other hand. "Florida, Tennessee, New York, Ohio. We're headed to California and Washington next. Wish you could come with us, it's a real blast."

"Washington?" I say; my voice cracks and the snare drum in my hand slipping from my fingers.

"Yeah," Jasper says slowly, watching me scramble to pick up the instrument again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure, mate," I say, attempting to remain casual; he might not even be going anywhere near Bella. "Where, uh, where about in Washington?"

"Seattle," Jasper answers cautiously. "My sister asked a favor of me. We were going to go to Port Angeles, but she asked if we would play at her friend's cafe instead. Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod, my head feeling detached from my body. I stand there, my limbs shaking slightly. If Jasper can go there, why can't I?"

"Edward? You okay, man?"

Emmett's voice sounds muffled, as my brain tries to wrap my head around the situation.

"He gets to see her," I mutter, my vision clouded over.

"Huh?" Emmett asks, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Snap out of it, Brit. What the hell is wrong?"

"If he can see her, why can't I?" I ask, and my head suddenly clear as I turn to my flat mate.

"Uh, good question?" he says uncertainly, looking from Jasper and back to me.

"Think about it, Em," I say excitedly. "My mum said she'd pay to fly me out there-"

"Wait your mom said she'd fly you out?"

"-we can ask Riley and Bree to run the place for the weekend, so that you can go with me-"

"Whoa, hold on, dude. Who said I was going with you?"

"-I'm sure Bella would be okay if I came out. She's always saying how expensive it would be for her to come here-"

"I hate to fly! You know that. I get airsick so fucking easy."

"When do you go to Washington?" I ask Jasper, completely oblivious to Emmett's muttering about flying.

"Next week," Jasper says with a frown. "Who's Bella?"

"The girl I love," I blurt out. My eyes go wide at my own admission and I turn to see Emmett giving me the same confused look that Jasper is.

"Dude, it's been, like, what, a week?" he asks incredulously. "Aren't you rushing into things?"

"I didn't mean to say it," I mumble, my face growing warm. "But no one understands me the way she does. We just click. I can't really explain it."

"Fair enough," Emmett shrugs, grinning broadly and then pointing a finger at me sternly. "But you're convincing mummy to pay for me, too."

"Deal," I say, elated by my plans.

I check for Bella on Skype again and see that she still didn't message me back. I frown but decide to let it go for the time being.

The crowd for Jasper's band is a subdued group, meaning I don't have to have a few drinks to stay calm. I let the music and the mood calm me, enjoying myself despite the lack of Bella in my day. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation why she hasn't messaged me back.

On a quick break, I order a new phone. It won't be in until the end of the week so I decide to try calling the cafe before remembering that its eleven-thirty in Washington. Instead, I send her another message online.

_My Bella, I've been thinking of you all day, wondering where you are. You should be proud of me, though, I have not freaked out or had a drink all day. Unless you count the one beer last night when we got home from work. I don't count that. Blimey, I have so much to tell you, but at the same time I can't. It's good, though, I promise. I'm in a real good mood tonight, even though I haven't gotten to chat with you. My old mate, Jasper, is in town and his band is playing here tonight. They're much more my style, I suppose you would call them an indie group. Do you like indie music? I feel like I can never hear enough about you. So sorry, I sound like a sap now. Maybe it's from withdrawals, you know, not seeing or hearing from you. Oh bugger, I sound like a prat. I'll go now. I hope to hear from you soon._

I send it off and wait again, but like before, there's no answer. Maybe I'll try ringing her in the morning.

Back out at the bar, things are slowing down. Jasper and his mates are playing their last songs and the few people still out on the small dance floor in front of the stage are looking exhausted. I'm feeling wide awake, so when Emmett comes up to me after we close, he has to insist that we don't start planning the trip right that moment. Being that it's three in the morning, that's probably a good idea.

I lay awake that night imagining different scenes in which Bella and I meet up, each one better than the last. I finally drift off to sleep sometime in the early morning; visions of silky brown hair and big, inviting eyes, warm laughter and sparkling smiles transitioning smoothly from my awake mind and into my dreams.

* * *

**Catch my Doctor Who line? I'm a total nerd but hopefully that's why you love me! So, leave some lovin' and I'll see you soon with Chapter 13!**


	13. Chapter 13: Sunday, Day Nine--BPOV

**Do you know how terrible I am? I've had this chapter written for over two weeks and sitting in my email, all beta'd, for about a week. *facepalm* If it helps any, my lovely beta, Shadowed By Passion, has the next chapter already so as soon as she gets a chance to beta, I WILL edit right away! Pinky promise! And I think you'll like that chapter... a lot... for now, here's chapter 13!**

* * *

Chapter 13: Sunday, Day Nine BPOV

"Damn, damn, double damn!"

I slam my hands down on the computer keyboard, knowing it won't do any good except to slightly relieve my anger. I've been sitting in the office at work all morning, leaving Jacob all alone to run the register and make the drinks, while I try in vain to sign into my Skype account.

I can't remember my fucking password.

I try typing the word fucking in as well, with no hope. When the program tells me I'm wrong yet again, I swear I can hear it laughing at me. I growl and push back from the desk, heading out to Jake.

The place is packed and I instantly feel like shit; a big, huge, steaming pile of shit. I shove Jacob to the register and start frantically filling drink orders. There has to be at least a dozen people both waiting to order and to receive their drinks. Once they're all cleared away, I lean against the back counter and wipe my brow.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," I say breathlessly. "Why didn't you tell me it was so busy in here?"

"You seemed like you were having a bad morning," he shrugs, casting his eyes down.

"Jake," I say slowly, coming up next to him and peering up into his face. "What's up?"

"Leah served me papers today," he says with a sigh, his head hanging impossibly lower.

"Aw, Jake," I groan, wrapping my arms around his waist. We stand there for a few minutes, just giving each other comfort. "Do you need a place to stay?"

"No," he says quietly, resting his head on mine. "She's already packed up and moved out. She wants to keep the car though."

"Of course," I roll my eyes and then gently untangle myself from him. "Well, anything you need, just ask."

"Can I come over tonight and just hang?" he asks sadly.

"You bring the beers and I'll order the pizza," I say with a smile. "Sausage and green peppers, right?"

"Right," he says, visibly perking up.

The girls come in just then. I notice Nessie's eyes going straight to Jacob, but when he turns and notices, she looks away. I smirk at their obvious attraction to one another and make each of my friends their favorite drinks. Once Angela comes in five minutes later, I join them with their drinks, as well as my own coffee.

"Hey, ladies, how goes the planning?" I ask as I pass out the beverages.

"Perfect," pipes up Alice, bouncing in her seat a little. "We've got five gift baskets, three framed pieces of artwork, eight gift certificates, Rose's brother's band will be here this weekend and the grocery store offered to donate some donuts and cupcakes.

Whoa. Maybe I should have made her a decaf latte. I don't think she even took a breath for that entire spiel.

"Awesome, thanks guys," I say, gingerly sipping my hot coffee.

"And how are things with Romeo?" Rose asks, smirking over her low-fat cappuccino.

"I actually haven't heard from him in a couple days," I grimace and the girls give similar looks of disappointment.

Except Rosalie, ever the queen of composition.

Wait, was that the shadow of sadness in her eyes?

"Well, I'm sure there's a good reason behind it," Nessie says quietly, running her finger over the rim of her caramel macchiatto. "Isn't there always?"

"Yeah," I answer, trying to keep the gloominess out of my voice.

I fail miserably, judging by the frown on Alice's face.

We go over a few more things before I head back into the office to do paperwork. I notice Jacob amble over to the table to greet the girls. He stands just slightly closer to the side of the table that Nessie is sitting at.

I pull out my file folder of bank statements and set to work. The job is tedious and involves lots of numbers, so it takes all my concentration. I'm so wrapped up in my work that I jump slightly when the phone on my desk rings. After taking a moment to calm my heart, I pick it up.

"Back to the Grind, this is Bella speaking," I say cheerfully.

"Hello?"

I would know that smooth voice anywhere.

Not that I know anyone else with that sexy accent.

"And where have you been, young man?" I say sternly, smiling stupidly.

"Uh, I can explain?" Edward says carefully, but then goes on in a stronger voice. "Though I could say the same about you."

"Huh?" I say, my voice coming out much higher pitched than I meant it to.

"Not so tough now, are you?" he says with a chuckle.

"Oh, shut up, you Brit," I say, waving my hand. "Talk."

"Some bloody idiot dunked my mobile in a glass of water," he says grumpily.

"Nice," I say in mock admiration. "Someone broke into my apartment and smashed up my laptop."

"Oh, you win," he says, sounding concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it just sucks," I sigh. "I tried calling you, but obviously you didn't get the message, what with your phone going swimming and all."

"Not very well, I might add," he says and then continues slowly. "Did someone else come to help you out? Jacob?"

"I'm trying not to bug him too much; his wife just filed for divorce," I say, treading carefully. "I actually called Tyler. He helped me clean up after the cops left."

"Oh, right, that bloke."

"Is that okay?" I asked cautiously. "You know nothing is going on, right?"

"No, no, it's fine," he says quickly, and then says more firmly, "I trust you; I'm just sorry I couldn't help out myself."

"Well, I didn't want to wait for you to be able to fly over and clean it up," I joke. "I tend to walk around barefoot, and there was quite a bit of broken crap on the floor."

"True," he sighs. "Do you know who did it?"

"Not a clue," I say with a frown; I hear him groan. "They knew me, though, that's the scary part. They fed Ben cat treats."

"Don't you keep treats in the house?" he questions.

"Nope," I tell him wryly.

"Great," he mumbles.

"Tell me about it."

"So, did you get my Skype messages?" he asks happily.

"Kind of hard to do that when my computer is out of commission too," I say. "It was smashed to bits in the break in, remember?"

"Damn," he swears, but then continues in a more upbeat voice,"wait, you have a computer at work too, don't you?"

"Ugh, I'm such an idiot," I groan, throwing my head back.

"Dare I ask why?" he laughs.

"I can't remember my Skype password," I mumble, leaning back in my chair and glaring at the ceiling.

"Ah. That does put a damper on things," he says knowingly.

"Whatever," I say. "Tell me what your messages said?"

"Oh, nothing," he says. I can picture him blushing and fiddling with his hands. The image makes me smile.

"Spill, Brit Boy," I say softly.

"That I missed you," he all but whispers. "And that I had some good news."

"Oh, do tell," I say as I tuck my legs up underneath me and rocking slightly.

"No can do, Coffee Girl," he says slyly.

"Hey, you call me that like it's a bad thing," I pout, rocking back a little harder. "Gah!"

The chair tips out from underneath me and I nearly hit my head on the office door. I do, however, hit it on the hardwood floor, and that hurts like a son of a bitch.

"Ah, fuck, that hurt," I groan.

"What? What happened?" he asks frantically.

"Chair fell over," I grumble, putting the fucker back up right and rubbing the back of my head. Luckily, my ponytail had cushioned the blow at least a little. "Geez, who am I, you?"

"Well, thanks," he says, sounding annoyed, but I can hear the smile in his voice. "Go put some ice on it, love, and call me at the bar later, if you'd like. I need to get back to my invoices."

"Oh, is invoices code for something naughty?" I say, putting on my best British accent.

Or what I think is an accent. It comes out sounding more like I'm drugged.

"Only naughty in the sense that this should have been done two weeks ago," he chuckles.

"Oh, damn, that's no where near as sexy," I scoff, standing up with a sigh. "I'll call you tonight, Brit Boy. Don't let any other assholes drown your phone."

"Oy. I promise," he says. "Bye, Bella."

"Bye, Edward."

After I hang up, I stand there, staring at the phone.

Did he really just call me 'love'?

I will not dwell on it.

I will not dwell on it.

Naturally, I spend the rest of the day fucking dwelling on it.

After work, I swing by the nearest pizza place and pick up a large pizza, half pepperoni and half sausage with green peppers all over it. When I get back to my place, Jake is waiting outside with two six packs of beer.

And not just any old beer, but the good shit that I get to have, maybe once a year, when Jacob manages to sneak it past Leah and into the house.

Maybe it was better off that they split.

We traipse upstairs, chatting about our day as we go. Once inside, Ben comes waddling over to me, crying pathetically and giving me his big-eyed look that says, 'feed me before I die of starvation!'

Jacob sets up our food and drink at the coffee table as I dish out some kibble for Ben and go into my bedroom to change into sweatpants.

"You know, Bella," Jacob muses when I join him on the couch. "maybe you and I should just get married. It would be a hell of a lot easier, seeing as we've known each other all our fucking lives."

"Dream on, dude," I joke, bumping his shoulder and holding up a slice of pizza. "There would be no love life, you know, unless we had our own skanks on the side."

"Hey, wouldn't bother me," he says, practically shoving half his slice into his mouth in one bite. He grins at me, his cheeks bulging with food. I roll my eyes and take my own, yet much smaller bite.

There's nothing on TV, as it's a Sunday night, but that doesn't stop us from laughing at every stupid ass show that we come across. Maybe it helps that we both down about three beers within the hour.

I then remember that Edward said to call him and I'm about to do just that when Jacob leans closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder.

"You know what, Bella?" he slurs, his words coming out thick and muddled. "We _should_ just get married. Fuck Leah and her fucking problems. Let's just do it. Let's fucking marry and... and shit."

"Jacob Black, I do believe you are drunk," I laugh, my own voice clearer, though my head is a bit foggy. "How can you be so fucked up when you barely had three beers?"

"Oh, I stole yours when you went to the bathroom," he says with a chuckle. "And I pounded another one."

"Ah, that'll do it," I say, shaking my head.

"But seriously," he says, sitting up and looking at me blearily. "Let's do it, right now."

"Uh, no Jake," I say with a frown but try to lessen the blow as his face saddens. "The court house isn't even open right now. It's almost ten."

"We'll just have that fucker, what's his name? Tyler!" His voice starts getting louder and more animated the longer he talks, though it's still difficult to understand him. "We can have Tyler get that fake ass license online. You know the shit I'm talking about. He pays, like, what, twenty bucks and can be all certified and shit? He could marry us!"

"No, Jacob, I'm not marrying you," I say firmly, gathering up our beer bottles and heading toward the kitchen.

"Aw, come on," he whines, drawing out his words. "You're my bestest friend ever. You know I would be good for the money."

"And you know I love you, kid, but we are not doing this," I tell him, giving him the bitch brow. "Now knock this shit off."

"Not until you agree," he says, picking up another beer and stumbling over to where I'm standing at the sink.

"No," I just about shout, taking away his bottle. "Get a fucking water bottle out of the fridge and sober up before I kick your ass out of here. or kick your ass, either way is fine with me."

"Don't be that way," he mumbles, leaning forward and placing his hands on the sink behind me, trapping me between his thick muscles. He's now close enough that his nose is nearly touching mine; the smell of beer swirls around me, making my eyes water.

"Jacob, I'm serious," I growl, putting my hands on his chest, trying to shove him away. He releases his cage around me and places his hands over mine, holding me to his chest.

"Let's just try one little kiss," he murmurs, skimming his nose against mine. "Please?"

I slip one hand out from his and pull back. My fist connects with his chin, making a satisfying smack sound. He reels back, nearly falling to the floor. I shake my hand and bite back a groan as he rights himself and looks at me, shocked, cradling his already bruising face.

"Get the fuck out," I snarl at him.

"Bella, I'm so sorry," he says in a small voice.

"Get out," I say again through gritted teeth.

"I'm serious, I didn't mean it. It was the beer and Leah and-"

"Get out!" I scream, pointing at the door. I hear Ben scrambling down the hall, away from our loud voices.

Still giving me his puppy dog face, Jacob grabs his keys off the coffee table and bolts for the door. He turns at the last second to try and say something to me, but luckily for him, he doesn't utter a single word before he leaves. A strange calmness fills my apartment once he closes the door, the only sound being my loud breathing. I stand there, huffing, until the pain in my hand becomes too much.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," I chant as I grab a dish towel out of the drawer by the stove and open the freezer. I wrap up the ice and head back to the couch; shoving the pizza and beer out of my way, I grab my phone from beneath a napkin. I awkwardly dial four-one-one left-handed and put the receiver up to my ear, nestling it between my cheek and shoulder so I can adjust the ice.

"Four-one-one, city and state please," the automated message says.

"Chicago, Illinois," I say clearly.

"Thank you, and what listing for Chicago?" I real person's voice asks.

"Double E Bar, please," I answer. She repeats the name and gives me a street before thanking me and connecting me to the bar. It rings a few times before someone answers, shouting over the cacophony of the room.

"Double E Bar, Emmett speaking," Emmett booms through the receiver.

"Hey, Emmett, it's Bella," I shout back. "Is Edward around?"

"Yeah, hang on, he just went to take a piss," he yells, laughing.

"Um, thanks for the info," I say, shaking my head.

I heard some shuffling and muffled voices as the phone was handed over. Within moments, Edward was the one yelling to be heard over the noise.

"Hello, love, how's your night going?" he asks happily.

"Shitty, to say the least," I grumble. "Jacob came over tonight."

"Isn't he your best mate?" he questions.

"Well, I'm not so sure about that now," I sigh. "And I doubt you'll like him much after this."

"Hold on," he says quickly and then yells at Emmett, "I'll be in the office, mate!"

Once I hear the office door close and all the noise is shut out, I continue.

"It all started out just fine. He brought some beers over, I bought a pizza and we were sitting around, just like old times, having a good time," I explain. "He was pretty broken up after Leah served him the divorce papers that I figured he could just use a friend to cheer him up."

"Of course," Edward says. "You did the right thing."

"I thought so too," I mumble and sigh. "A few beers turned into too many and he ended up coming onto me."

"Did he snog you?" Edward asks seriously and I can't help but snort.

"Snog? Isn't that something a pig does?" I giggle.

"Oh, bugger," he says with an embarrassed laugh. "It means to kiss."

"Huh, interesting," I muse, imagining the two of us snogging. When Edward clears his throat I shake my head. "Right, sorry. Yeah, he did try, but I didn't let it get that far."

"What did you do?" he asks cautiously.

"I punched that ass in the face," I say matter of factly.

"Wait, you kicked his ass or kicked him _in_ the ass?" Edward asks and I can't help but just bust up laughing.

"Oh, Brit Boy, you really know how to make a girl laugh," I say, wiping tears off my face.

"Only you, Coffee Girl," he chuckles, obviously pleased that he cheered me up.

"To clarify, I punched _him_ in the face because he _is_ an ass," I explain. "I have a pretty fucking mean right hook, if I do say so myself. Hurt like a bitch though."

I raise my make-shift ice pack and inspect the damage. A bit of bruising is appearing, but I can move my fingers, meaning that a trip to the emergency room isn't necessary.

"Is your hand okay?" he asks, sounding concerned. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"Are you going to drive me there?" I joke.

"No, I suppose not," he says sadly. I instantly feel bad.

"No big deal, I'm fine," I assure him, shrugging as though he can see me.

"Listen, I gotta go," he says after a moment. "I wish I didn't, but work calls to me. Actually, it's Emmett. I think a bunch of foreign blokes showed up. I think he assumes I'll speak whatever language that they do."

"Just turn on the ol' British charm, and you'll do fine," I tell him.

"They're not girls," he says slowly.

"I know," I say with a snicker. "Go. Work. I'll be here. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Coffee Girl," he says.

"Bye, Brit Boy," I say back.

After I put my phone down, I see one round eye peeking around the hallway corner. Ben gives a tiny kitten meow and slowly reveals his other eye.

"Come here, fatty," I say, using a soft voice. Ben hesitantly steps forward, gives another baby meow and then scampers toward me when he sees the piece of pepperoni I'm holding out for him.

I stoke Ben's soft fur, the ice still balanced on my other hand, and think about the night. Sure, things could have been way easier if I could just marry my best friend, but I don't see him that way. I know he's just rebounding, and that Leah's rejection hurt, but there is no way that shit he was trying would fly. I'm no one's left-overs or second choice.

"He'll regret it in the morning, Ben," I whisper, as he purrs loudly and munches on his treat. "You'll see. He'll come crawling back."

I fall asleep on the couch, hours later, with the TV on and Ben curled up against my stomach and the ice cubes melting all over the coffee table.

The next morning, I sleep in later than usual and get ready slowly, throwing on an old t-shirt and jeans and putting my unwashed hair up into a messy ponytail. I overfill Ben's bowl, so that it's spilling all over the floor and shove my feet into sneakers, as I walk out the door.

I open the door and come face-to-face with Jacob; his fist is in the air as if he was about to knock. I raise a brow at him and he scrambles back, shoving his hands in his pocket. After locking up behind me, I turn around, arms cross, to look at him.

"So," he starts off quietly.

"So, what?" I snap. I know I shouldn't be as mad at him still, but my damn hand still hurts, especially smashed under my arm but I don't want to show him that.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. "I was a complete, fucking idiot and I should have known better."

"Yeah, you should have," I say, nodding my head once.

"It was just, I don't know," he says, letting out a deep sigh and staring at the ceiling. "I knew that Leah and I wouldn't last, but when she just practically threw the fucking papers at me..."

He stops and lets out another deep breath, now hanging his head. He looks so pathetic that I can't help myself. I drop my arms and step forward, resting my hands on his shoulders.

"I get it," I say softly. "But next time, buy a hooker. I'm not a hooker. You can't buy me. I won't give you sex to make you feel better. Besides, I'm also your boss. That's technically sexual harassment."

"But we're not at work," he says, cracking a smile.

"Shut up," I mumble, rolling my eyes. "I'm here to talk, not to fuck."

"Sorry," he says again, wincing.

"It's okay," I tell him, pulling him down to hug me. He wraps his bear-like arms around me, squeezing tightly. I laugh and playfully smack his arm.

Just then, there's a clicking sound and I spin around to see someone by the staircase, dressed in black, holding a camera up to their face.

"Hey!" Jacob yells, dropping his hands and starting down the hall. I chase after them but the person is too fast. By the time we reach the stairs, they're whipping around the corner to the second floor.

We don't give up pursuit and race down the three flights and through the lobby. The girl at the counter doesn't even look up from filing her nails as we sprint out the door, yelling the whole way. The person bolts out the door, but when we get outside, they're already in a small, black car, speeding away.

"Who was that?" I ask, panting besides Jacob.

"No idea," he says, breathing just as heavily. He puts his hands on his hips and glares in the direction the car went. "Who the hell would be taking pictures of us?"

"No clue," I say, wondering why that dumbass girl inside didn't seem to notice or care that three people were booking it out of the building. I really want to figure out what the hell has been going on , but it's getting late, so I motion for Jacob to walk with me down to work, all the while thinking about when I'll get to take a break to call Edward and ask his opinion about the stranger in black.

* * *

**Wellllll? Did I do good? Tell me you love it! If you don't... well, I'm not gonna go there cuz I'm hoping you liked it lots! Oh, and try not to hate Jacob so much. He's all screwed up in the head cuz of his soon-to-be-bitch-of-an-ex-wife. Huh, long title. You'll get more on her soon. Tune in next time! Sorry, not enough coffee today...**


	14. Chapter 14: Friday, Day Fourteen--BPOV

**GASP! An update in a decent amount of time? Yup! My awesome Beta edited it sooner than I thought she would (lady stayed up until like 2 in the morning, just lost in it! Now that is a great friend and apparently a good chapter! lol) and I didn't wanna let it sit. I even edited it on my tiny netbook, with two tiny word documents, side by side, during naptime with my boss's husband sitting next to me! Whew! My neck hurts now from being hunched over this thing. So, if there are mistakes, though I don't think I missed any, it's cuz I didn't do it on my cool desktop that has two screens. Anywho, I jumped ahead a bit and I hope you like it!**

* * *

Chapter 14: Friday, Day Fourteen—BPOV 

Jacob and I never found out who the shady photographer was and though I felt like someone was watching me all week, I didn't see the person again. Edward brought up a scary thought: maybe it was whoever broke into my apartment.

If I found that fucker skulking around my turf again, I'd kick their ass.

Huh, turf. I sound like a cat.

Or a fifties teenager.

Next thing you know, I'll be snapping my fingers and breaking into song as I break their face.

"What're you doing?" Jacob asks, showing up next to me at the coffee maker.

"What do you mean?" I ask, replacing the ground's filter.

"You were snapping your fingers," Jacob says; his tone of voice implies I was looking a bit crazy.

"Oh, um, just have a song stuck in my head," I lie, looking away.

"Whatever," he mumbles, shaking his head. His mood has been on and off all week, ranging from fake happy to deathly quiet and grumpy.

I, on the other hand, have been too busy working with the girls on plans for the weekend to really let things get in my way. We've got everything set so all we have to do is wait until tomorrow when things start up at three in the afternoon.

Tomorrow.

I can't believe it's tomorrow.

Damn it, I'm nervous.

What if I can't make enough money?

What if no one shows?

What if I can't get a passport?

Wait, I don't need a passport if I'm traveling within the United States, right?

Shit, there's so much I don't know; so many things that can go wrong, that I'm suddenly terrified of tomorrow. Damn. I need coffee. And Alice.

As though she can predict the future, Alice comes waltzing in, a large bag over one shoulder, she orders two triple shot espressos. She waves me over to a table in the back and I gratefully follow, after Jacob grunts at me that he'll make our coffees.

"Whoa, there, not so enthusiastically next time," I deadpan, rolling my eyes and peeling off my apron. I hurry over to Alice and plop down gratefully, dropping my forehead to the table top.

"Good morning to you too," Alice says cheerfully with a giggle. "How's your day?"

"Go ask Mr. Grumpy-pants over there," I groan into the wood, waving my hand vaguely in Jacob's direction. I pick my head up and look at Alice wearily. "God, Alice, I swear, if I have to pretend any longer that Jacob isn't acting all butt-hurt just for the sake of my customers, I'm totally going to fucking lose it."

"Just think about tomorrow," she says with a huge grin, which disappears when I groan. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"God, no, Ali," I say quickly and she looks slightly relieved but still worried. "I'm just scared shitless. There are so many unknown variables; so many stupid little things that I didn't think about ahead of time. I mean, are you sure this is even going to work?"

"I'm positive, Bella," she reassures me, pulling out a notebook from her bag and smiling again. "I have it all worked out. I put up fliers literally everywhere; we're going to stay closed until the whole thing starts at three and we'll start out with a drawing for the first fifty people that show up. After that, we'll have our first band play, the smaller one, and after that we'll have another drawing and an auction for the bigger prize. When that's done, Jasper's band will play. We'll do games, more drawings, and to end it all, Nessie will play so that everything ends on a mellow note."

I practically have to pick my jaw up off the table. Once my brain catches up with everything that Alice just told me, and when I finally find my voice, all I can say is, "Okay."

"Aren't you excited?" she asks, her voice going all high-pitched and squeaky.

"Well, yeah, of course I am," I tell her with a nervous laugh. "I'm just freaked out about the whole thing. I've never done anything like this before. Opening this place was the biggest thing I've ever done. Can one person really do two crazy things in life successfully?"

"Yes," she says confidently, "and I will show you how."

For the next hour, Alice and I go over the next day's plans, leaving Jacob to run the counter by himself. It's slow enough that I really don't give a shit, not that I would anyways, with the way he's been acting. By the time Alice and I are done, the place is dead enough that we decide to close early.

"Thanks a lot, boss," Jacob says snidely when I join him behind the counter to do our closing duties.

"Listen, jackass," I snap, putting my hands on my hips and facing him fully. He keeps his face turned stubbornly on the cash register. "I understand that your bitch of a wife just left you, but here, at work, you need to put on your pretty face and suck it up. I hate to be so blunt, but you know me, I don't sugar coat things. Are you really that hurt about what happened or are you just pissing and moaning for the sake of it?"

"Just pissing and moaning," Jacob mumbles, his shoulders slumping.

"Did you ever think about going out on a date?" I ask kindly, dropping my hands. "You know, get back in the saddle and all that shit?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess I could," he says quietly, still slowly counting out the register.

"What is it, Jake?" I ask nicely, yet firmly.

"I'm just jealous," he says slowly. "I see you getting out there and going for it, and I think, 'why me? Why did my marriage have to fail?' Honestly, I almost wish that this thing with the Brit won't work out for you."

"Oh," I say dumbly, a cold feeling rushing over me. Shit, what if it doesn't work out? For all we know, things will be completely different in person.

"Not because I don't love you," Jacob says quickly, turning to me in horror and finally abandoning the money. "But because I just wish it were me. Did I ever tell you why Leah and I got together in the first place?"

"Yeah, your friends set you up on a blind date," I explain cautiously, trying not to break down at the thought of Edward and me not working. "You said that it was love at first sight."

"Hardly," he says with a cold laugh. "It was love at first sight for her, or rather, obsession at first sight. She wanted to take the first guy that showed any kind of interest in her. I just tried to show her a good time and go along with it before letting her down easy. Turns out, she dated all of my friends and did the same thing to all of them."

"Why did you marry her, then?" I ask. Jacob and I knew each other better than anyone else. I can't see him giving in to someone's obsession like this.

"Because I thought she was pregnant," he admits, giving a wry smile.

"But you said it was just one date," I point out, now thoroughly confused.

"I decided to give her a chance," he says with a sigh, leaning against the counter. "You know, see if maybe my feelings would grow or her fixation would lessen. And I did end up finding things about her that I liked; the way she laughed hysterically at the stupidest joke, the way she stood and stared at her image for five minutes straight and smiled at herself when she was happy with her appearance. Lots of little things. And she grew into a more normal person.

"But, after about six months, we hit a plateau. She didn't want to change anything from our regular routine, and I'll admit, I got bored. Every time I tried to discuss it with her, she started crying and saying that I didn't love her anymore. It confused the hell out of me, I'll tell you that. And then, one day, she told me that her mood swings were because she was pregnant."

Jacob hoists himself onto the counter and sighs again, staring at nothing, as he continues his story. I can't do much more than stare and try to keep my mouth shut.

"I wasn't the one that suggested marriage. She was. She wanted to get married so her mom wouldn't get mad at her. She said that her brother got someone pregnant, but didn't marry her, so she disowned him."

"But Leah doesn't have a brother," I say, my brow knitting together.

"Well, because, according to her, he was disowned," Jacob says, shaking his head. "So, I married her. She was so blissfully happy that I was happy too... for a while."

"I'm sorry, Jake," I say, coming forward and giving him a hug. He rests his head on mine, just like he did before. After a moment, I pull back and smile. "Let's put some music on. I know what will perk you up."

"Oh no, don't tell me..."

I skip over to the stereo and plug my iPod in. I scroll through the songs until I hit my Jacob playlist. On it are all the songs we loved listening to in high school, and I mean all the songs.

I find the one I want and press play, turning up the volume and spinning around to my friend with a grin.

I start shaking my shoulders with the beat, and Jacob attempts to hide his smile. He shakes his head again and rubs his eyes with his fingertips.

"Bella, come on," he groans. "This song is so old school!"

"That's why I like it," I say, reciting the lyrics to the Run DMC song:

_This speech is my recital,_

_ I think it's very vital,_

_ To rock (a rhyme) that's right (on time)_

_ It's Tricky is the title, here we go..._

When the chorus starts, I throw my hands over my head and start leaping around, belting out the words. Jacob lowers his hands, his lips pulled up in a reluctant grin and his body shaking with silent laughter.

_It's Tricky to rock a rhyme, to a rock a rhyme that's right on time_

_ It's Tricky... it's Tricky (Tricky) Tricky (Tricky)_

_ It's Tricky to rock a rhyme, to rock a rhyme that's right on time_

_ It's Tricky... Tr-tr-tr-tricky (Tricky) Trrrrrrricky_

I shake my hips, making my ass sway, as I bounce around cleaning all the counters. Jacob slides off his seat and follows suit, singing along, but not getting as into it as I am.

_I met this little girlie,_

_ Her hair was kinda curly_

_ Went to her house and bust her out,_

_ I had to leave real early._

With the next few lines, I bump into Jacob, making him slide slightly away from me each time. He looks down at me and laughs again and I smile big, happy that I successfully cheered him up.

_These girls are really sleazy,_

_ All they just say is please me_

_ Or spend some time and rock a rhyme,_

_ I said "It's not that easy."_

Finally, Jacob lets loose and starts yelling the chorus, jumping up and down and looking, honestly, like an idiot, but in a good way.

He pulls out the bag of trash from the can, still moving to the beat, and motions to it as he heaves it over his shoulder. He goes out the back door, still singing, and I laugh when he shakes his ass at me.

I bounce around, wiping everything down, and then grab the rubber band holding up my ponytail and pull. My hair cascades down my back, making soft waves that brush against my cheeks. I shake my head, making the silky strands fly around my face, obscuring my vision, and wave my arms above my head.

_It's Tricky... Tr-tr-tr-tricky (Tricky) Trrrrricky_

I feel a gust of cold wind, coming from the opposite way that Jake had headed, and realize that we hadn't locked the door. With my hair still blocking my face, I spin around and turn down the volume on the music, trying to brush my hair out of my way.

"Sorry, we closed early tonight," I say, pulling some strands out of my mouth with a sputter as I turn around and say, "Tomorrow, we're opening at three so that-"

"I can't come in for just a cuppa?"

I freeze, my eyes going wide. There's no way I'm seeing what I'm seeing. I must have gone fucking nuts. Maybe in the haze of his bad mood, Jake laced my espresso with something. Pot, meth, shrooms; anything that would make me hallucinate like this.

There, in the doorway, dressed in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, black framed glasses perched on his nose beneath wild, tangled hair, is none other than my Brit.

Edward.

"I could just pop outside until you're done," he says nervously, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the door. "I didn't really mean you needed, I mean, I'm not actually here for, you know, coffee, or even tea, though either would be nice right now..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I mumble, stopping his rambling.

Oh, God, the rambling!

"S-sorry, what?" he says, his fingers stopping their fiddling as he stares at me, mouth agape.

"You're not seriously here, are you?" I clarify, still speaking quietly, afraid that I might shatter this beautiful illusion.

"Well, y-y-yes, I'm here," he stutters, his hands moving in a nervous blur again. "I know we discussed planning something, but my mum, she offered to fly me out here, and, honestly, I couldn't wait any longer. This week was total rubbish, especially without my mobile. Oh, bugger! Phone! Cell phone! Shit, you must think that I'm-"

"That you're here," I finish for him. "I think that you're here."

"I _am_ here," he says softly.

I move slowly out from behind the counter, my face splitting into the biggest shit-eating grin that I've ever had. When he sees me full on, no counter blocking his view, he lets out a sigh and smiles, too. His hands drop to his side; all nerves are gone as his whole body clearly relaxes.

The room feels super-charged; the hair on my arms stands up, my whole body hyper-aware that he's finally standing just before me, in the same room, no computer screen distorting his face. I step forward, my body feeling lighter than air, and then sprint across the room at him. His arms open up just as I reach him and I leap into them, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. He holds me tight, breathing deeply, and I do that same; his warm, musky scent fills my senses.

"I can't believe you're here," I whisper through teary eyes. "You're here, you're here, you're here..."

"I'm here, love," he says into my ear, placing his nose at my temple and inhaling again.

I don't want to let go of him, and judging by the tightness of his grip, neither does he. We stand there—well, him standing, and me hanging on like a spider monkey— just breathing deep, wanting to savor the moment. He sways slightly from side to side, humming quietly as he buries his face into my neck.

I hear the Run DMC song end and there's a momentary silence before the next song starts. Suddenly, a woman's voice yells through the speaker, the quality of this song a bit louder than the last.

_Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want,_

_ So, tell me what you want, what you really, really want,_

_ I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want,_

_ So, tell me what you want, what you really, really want._

_ I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, wanna, I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig, ah!_

"You listen to the Spice Girls?" Edward laughs, pulling back and giving me an amused look.

"Uh, back in middle school, I had a slight obsession," I admit, scrunching up my nose. "Don't judge me, I was young and stupid."

"Hey, I didn't say anything," he says, shrugging his shoulders, still smiling.

I slide my legs down his body, planting my feet on the floor, but leaving my hands on his shoulders. I look up into his bright, green eyes, still feeling giddy that he's actually here.

"So, now what?" I ask, my voice low.

"Uh, I don't know," he says, the nerves back. I can feel his fingers fluttering on my lower back. "I suppose I could go for that cuppa, tea or coffee, whatever you have. Oh, blimey, you're a coffee shop, you have everything. I'm not sure if I have cash though, do you take a debit card? God, I sound like such a prat-"

"Shut up, you stupid Brit," I say.

I reach up and grip the back of his head as I stretch up onto my tiptoes. I pull his head down at the same time, crushing my lips to his. He's so surprised that he doesn't react at first, but as I move my mouth against his, I feel him sigh and thread his fingers up into my hair. I open my mouth slightly, brushing my tongue against his upper lip. He shudders and grips my hair tighter, letting me slip my tongue inside to move against his. I groan quietly, pulling him closer to me, but a loud bang causes us to break apart.

"Those damn teenagers were knocking over the trash cans back there again." I hear Jacob's loud voice before I can see him. "Geez, I sound like an old man, complaining about the kids. Next thing you know, I'll be shaking my cane as I tell them to get off my lawn!"

He stops short when he comes into the room, freezing at the sight of us. I lower my hands slowly, turning sheepishly to my friend. Edward drops his hands quickly, as though burned, and shoves one into his pocket and the other into his hair.

"Uh, what's going on here?" Jacob demands, going into protector mode.

"Uh, hello, pleasure to meet you," Edward spits out quickly, giving a short wave.

"Holy shit, it's the Brit!" Jacob crows. I roll my eyes and look up to see Edward blushing fiercely. "Damn, Bella, I was wondering who you had your hands all over."

"Oh, shut up, you ass," I say playfully, grabbing Edward's free hand and dragging him toward Jake. "You know I'm not a hussy."

"Hey, I've known you a while, but you're good at keeping secrets," he laughs with a shrug. I punch him in the arm and he raises his hands in defense. "Kidding, Bella! Kidding!"

Jake puts his hand out and Edward takes it carefully, eying us as we banter.

"Hello, you must be Jacob," he says softly with a nervous, crooked smile.

I want to lick it off his face.

Oh, crap, rein it in, Bella, he just got here!

"And you must be Edward," Jacob replies, shaking his hand firmly. "It really is good to meet you. I'm glad Bella didn't make you up."

"All right, enough of that," I say, shoving them apart. "As your boss, I say you can clock out for the night. Out!"

"All right, just don't do anything I wouldn't do," he says, taking off his apron as he slowly backs away. "Not that there isn't much, if you know what I mean."

"Shut up!" I hiss at him. He just winks.

"Okay, fine, do whatever you'd like, just don't forget to sterilize whatever you decide to get jiggy on."

"Oh my gosh, get out now!" I say, pointing at the door.

Jacob throws his apron under the counter and jogs out. I turn briefly to try to kick him in the ass, but he dodges it, and if I hadn't been hanging onto Edward, I probably would have fallen. Jake knows this and cackles wildly as he takes off into the night.

"So, you said you wanted a cuppa?" I ask Edward once we're alone again.

"Oh, right, well, you don't have to call it that. It just means a cup of tea or coffee or whatever really, though it mainly means tea, I believe, but I don't know if you like tea so-"

"God, you're even more adorable in person," I say, shaking my head. He smiles and stops tugging on his hair, instead reaching for my other hand.

"We were interrupted before," he says gruffly, pulling me closer. "Mind if we finish that kiss? Unless, you really do want to sit down to some tea."

I look up into his sparkling eyes; my whole body is humming with happiness. After what felt like months as opposed to barely two weeks, we're actually together. I never thought we would pull this off and that even if we did, that we wouldn't have the same chemistry as when we talk. But I was dead wrong; the electricity between us is practically visible and nothing can stop us from breaking that contact for anything while we're together.

"Screw the tea," I say, turning around and bringing him with me.

In one quick move, I lift myself onto the counter behind me, once again wrapping my legs around his waist. He steps forward, closing the distance and places his hands on either side of my face. After exchanging one last smile, we connect again; Edward doesn't hesitate in opening his mouth and sliding his tongue in. With my arms wrapped around his neck, we continue where we had left off, barely breaking for air for the next hour.

Best first kiss, hands down, ever, in the history of kisses.

* * *

**Eh? Eh? What do you thiiiiiiink? I hope you enjoyed their first meeting! I've had the whole jumping on him thing stuck in my head since practically the beginning. I love the part in New Moon where B jumps into E's arms to save him in Italy. SIGH. Sorry, losing track of things... Oh! Did you get Breaking Dawn Part 2 yet? I watched the whole thing and almost ALL the special features (I got the Target one so there are lots more) instead of doing anything productive before work LOL Sorry, getting sidetracked again. Reviews are love! Lemme see it! Pretty please...**


	15. Chapter 15: Saturday, Day Fifteen--EPOV

**A/N: Believe it or not, this was written within maybe a week or so of the last chapter, but I didn't expect to get it back too soon because my Beta was in the process of moving when I sent it to her. No biggie, I knew she'd get to it when she could. I waited almost two weeks, and was too chicken to bug her about it, but when I finally did, she told me she sent it to me. Uh, what? We both went through our emails and turns out... she forgot to send it. Oops. It was beta'd the day after I sent it. LOL All well. I figured she was busy. Moving is stressful and hard work. Well, here it is! I've been in a bit of a writing shlump, BUT I will get to work right away on Chatper 16 and I'll be super annoying and bug my Beta everyday after I send it until I get it back! Okay, maybe not EVERY day, only because I don't want her to be SO annoyed that she ditches me.. I don't think she'll do that... maybe... I dunno. Sorry, onto the chapter! If you read my ramblings in nearly every A/N, you'll know how I write it so well!**

* * *

Chapter 15: Saturday, Day Fifteen—EPOV

"Seriously, Edward, you're going to have to let go of my hand for this."

"I can't, it's just not possible."

"Damn it, Brit, you are not seeing me pee! Now let go!"

With a heavy sigh, I let go of Bella's hand and laugh as I watch her race down the hall and slam the bathroom door behind her. I roll over onto my back and place my hands behind my head.

Last night had been pure perfection. After we finished snogging in her shop, we did sit down to some tea and talked until we were both yawning. We held hands all the while as well as on our walk to her dodgy looking apartment. Nothing serious happened last night; we just sat on the couch and chatted some more, eventually moving things into the bedroom. I was nervous at first, concerned that things might move a bit quickly, not that I didn't want to do things with Bella but I had only had one partner before her.

When we reached the room, Bella instructed me to change into whatever I felt comfortable in then left the room with a shirt in hand. She came back after I had changed into a pair of flannel pajamas dressed in an oversized dark green t-shirt that said 'Mariners' on it. She stopped and stared at where I sat on the edge of the bed, mussing with my hair. After a few moments, she shook her head and walked around to the other side of the bed.

"You're killing me, Smalls," she had said, laughing as she climbed under the covers.

"Smalls?" I had asked, twisting around to smirk at her.

"It's a line from a movie," she had answered, rolling her eyes. "A very popular _American_ movie. What I'm trying to say is that you, shirtless..."

She had paused to shake her head again. I looked down and felt my face go red.

Well, at least I knew she was physically attracted to me as well.

"Oh, right, sorry," I had said sheepishly. "But you said to get comfortable.

"That I did," she had said softly and the two of us cuddled in bed to talk some more until we fell asleep, still holding each other.

The morning light filters in from the window as I lay there, staring at the ceiling and feeling utterly content. I can't recall the last time I had slept in a woman's bed but I know that leaving it today and then for good in a few days will be the hardest thing I will ever have to do.

"Why the long face?" Bella asks when she returns.

"Just thinking," I say quietly, opening my arm in invitation. She climbs in happily.

"What about?" she presses, snuggling into my side. "You looked so serious."

We lay silently for a moment; I absentmindedly run my fingers up and down her bare arm. She hums in contentment and I consider telling her it's nothing, but I only get to stay for a few days so I'll need to say something.

"What happens when I leave?" I say, so quietly that I wonder if she hears me. When she tenses up, I know she does.

"We go back to the way we were, I guess," she mutters, sounding miserable.

"I don't want to go," I say quickly. "You know that, right?"

She sits up and looks me right in the eyes, her own brown orbs swimming with tears. She gives a small smile and nods.

"Yeah, I do," she says softly.

I lean over and give her a soft kiss, lingering only slightly, so that we don't end up stuck in bed all day. Not that I would mind, but I know Bella has her business to run.

We take turns showering and then have a bowl of cereal together. I can't help but wonder about the bare cupboards and fridge, slightly worrying that she doesn't make enough money.

"Bella?" I ask cautiously, toying with my spoon in what's left of my breakfast.

"Hmm?" she mumbles around a mouthful of food.

"Why don't you have much for eating in the house?" I ask her slowly, hoping I don't offend.

"Two reasons, really," she explains, stirring her Frosted Flakes around. "First, I'm just too fucking lazy to go all the way to the store. It's like six blocks away!"

I chuckle at the way she pretends to act serious. She smiles and continues.

"And second, though I do have the cafe, it's been difficult to make ends meet lately," she says, her smile turning into a frown. "Mike really set me back and before that, we had no one, so I ended up having to pay Jacob a lot of overtime."

"It was like that for Emmett and I when we first opened, too," I tell her, fidgeting with my spoon again. "We're lucky that bars do so well. I'm sorry you're having problems."

"Oh, shut up, it's fine," she says, nudging my shoulder. "Hey, do you wanna come to work with me today?"

"What will I do all day?" I ask curiously, though I am a bit intrigued as to how a cafe runs as opposed to a bar.

Also, I'm not particularly eager to leave Bella now that I'm here.

And judging by the way she's grabbing my arm and pulling me off the couch, she's not either.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as she grabs our bowls and dumps them in the sink.

"I need to get ready for work, but I'm not letting you out of my sight," she says, dragging me down the hall.

"B-but... aren't you already ready?" I ask nervously. She's already dressed. What more does she need to do?

"Um, I can't go into work in sweatpants, duh," she says, looking over her shoulder and rolling her eyes at me. "But I was trying to get out of the shower quick and these were the closest thing that I could put on."

"Oh," I mumble, still not quite catching on.

None of this matters, though, at least not when she lets go of my hand and starts to shimmy out of her sweatpants.

"Oh," I say again, this time in surprise. "W-would you like me to, um, you know, pop out for a bit and, um, uh..."

I trail off as she makes her way to her dresser, my eyes unable to stop watching her bum as the muscles move under the blue cotton. She looks at me casually and chuckles.

"What?" she asks, rummaging around for a pair of jeans.

"Um, you're, um..." I mutter, attempting to raise my eyes to her face and failing miserably.

"It's just underwear," she laughs, tugging on her pants. "Haven't you ever been to the beach? Some chicks wear less than this."

"Well, yes, but, see, that's the... the beach," I say, shaking my head slightly once she's fully covered, feeling a bit dizzy.

"Your point?" she asks, raising her eyebrows as she slips on her trainers.

"For one, I don't go to the beach much," I say quietly, twisting my fingers nervously. "And none of them, you know, have ever looked like..."  
"Like what?" she asks, her eyes down as she ties her laces.

"Like you," I breathe, my face heating up.

She's silent for so long that I worry that I've made her cross. Maybe she thought it was rude the way I was staring.

Oh God, I've made her cross and now she's going to kick me out and tell me that I'm a pig.

"Edward," she sighs. I look up with wide eyes to find her staring at me, an odd look on her face.

"Yes?" I ask quietly.

"When I started talking to you, I never thought you would be so..." She stops and shakes her head slowly.

I can feel my hands start to shake. Here it comes, she's going to call me rude, annoying, too shy, a pervert...

"So amazing," she finishes.

"Sorry, w-w-what?" I stutter stupidly.

"I was worried that when we met, face to face, that there wouldn't be as much as an attraction," she explains, standing up and walking toward me. "I knew we got along in conversation but this," she motions between the two of us with her pointer finger, "I can feel it. It took a hell of a long time, but, I feel like I've finally found it. I always thought it sounded stupid and sappy and pretty fucking lame but it's not."

"What is it?" I whisper; her face is just inches away now.

Instead of answering, she places her hands on either side of my face, rises up on her toes and presses her lips lightly to mine. She pulls back and smiles.

"S-sorry, again," I say densely. "What is it?"

She kisses me again, harder this time, lacing her fingers up into my hair. I can't hold back the moan that escapes my lips and she laughs in response, lowering herself again.

"Um, okay," I mumble. She snickers and rolls her eyes.

"You're so blind, Brit," she laughs, grabbing my hand again, tugging me toward the door.

I furrow my brow, trying to figure out what I'm missing. She hands my trainers to me once we're in the living room and I put them on distractedly. It's not until I follow her out the door, down the stairs and out onto the street that I think I may understand what she was trying to tell me wordlessly.

I knew a long time ago that I was possibly in love with this girl—okay, more like positively—but I was too afraid to say anything to scare her away. Did she feel the same way? Should I say anything? It didn't seem like she was going to; should I 'man up' as Emmett would say, and just say it first? Or was this something that wasn't one of those things men say first?

Blimey, this is confusing.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks me. I look down in surprise to see that we're only a block away from the cafe, waiting for the walk signal to change.

I look down into her big, chocolate eyes, taken aback by her beauty. Her skin is clear, her cheeks tinged slightly pink from the brisk morning air. She's not wearing any makeup, but she doesn't need it. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, showing off her flawless features.

"Bella, I-" I start to say, but the light changes and she pulls me off the curb. I don't try again until we're to the other side. "I need to tell you something."

"Okay," she says easily, smiling up at me again. She sees my hesitation and squeezes my hand lightly. "Spit it out, Brit Boy."

"Okay, well, I don't expect the same answer, but I have to, um, h-have to t-t-tell you," I say too quickly and with a stutter. I stop briefly to take a deep breath. "Bella, I-"

"Oh, shit," she breathes, stopping so fast in her tracks that I take another two steps before realizing it.

"Never mind, forget I said anything," I ramble, running my free hand through my hair. "I knew it wasn't the right time, but I just had to get it out and-"

"No!" she nearly shouts. "Look!"

I follow her pointing finger and gasp as well, seeing what has her eyes wide and her breathing short and angry.

The door to the cafe is wide open, the knob lying on the ground. The large front window that had Back to the Grind printed on it is covered in angry swear words, written in bright red paint.

"Who the fuck..." she says breathlessly, striding forward, but I stop her with a hand to her arm.

"Wait!" I cry, looking back and forth between her angry eyes and the broken door. "Maybe you should let me go first."

"Oh, shut up, I can handle this shit," she snaps, wrenching her arm out of my grasp.

"Please?" I say quietly. She stops and turns to me, her cross expression softening. "I j-just got you. I don't want anything to happen to you. Please?"

She sighs and nods, crossing her arms over her chest. As I pass her, I lean over and lightly kiss her forehead. This seems to relax her a bit.

"Oh, God," I mumble under my breath. I take a deep breath and step forward with my shoulders squared. My feet crunch across the broken glass, but I can barely hear it over my thumping heart.

Why the bloody hell did I insist on going first? I'm not a tough guy; Bella surely knows that.

I poke my head into the door, making sure not to touch the doorway, even when my feet slide on the glass. I suppress a groan as I look around the room.

"Well?" Bella calls from behind me.

"Um..." I hedge, grimacing.

My eyes roam the room, taking in the broken tables, graffiti and destroyed merchandise. I wince when I see the broken machines, their pieces lying all over the tile floor.

"Just tell me the worst of it," Bella groans. I turn around to see her standing there with her eyes shut tight and her hands balled up into fists.

"Uh, well, uh," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "It looks like someone took a cricket bat to your espresso machine."

"A what?" she snorts and opens her eyes. She sighs with a sad smile on her face. "Oh, Brit Boy, you really know what to say."

I shrug, a sheepish smile on my face. I never meant to be clever.

She wordlessly holds out her hand and I rush to take it. She squeezes hard, her other hand wrapping around my bicep and holding tight. I look down at her and she nods, a steely look in her eyes.

We step forward slowly, her eyes forward and mine down on her. When we enter, she stops, looking around slowly.

"I'm terribly sorry, Bella," I say softly.

She doesn't answer, but continues to look around. Without releasing my hand, she walks around the room, taking everything in. It almost looks like a hurricane hit the place. Her silence is beginning to worry me; she seems to be in shock and I'm not sure what to do about it.

We eventually end up behind the register, leaning against the back counter. Her eyes are glazed over as she stares at the room and I can't think of a damn thing to say.

"Bella, I know this is, uh, well, this is just plain shit, but, uh..." I trail off as I see her pull out her mobile. "Who are you phoning?"

"Alice," she says in a flat voice.

"Right," I mumble, taking out my own mobile. "Do you mind if, I uh, ring Emmett? He came here with me and I told him I would, uh, you know, let him know what was going on, so..."

She nods, her eyes on her mobile as she texts Alice. I consider calling Emmett, but I don't want to let go of Bella to make the call. I settle for texting one handed.

_Hey, Em, we have a situation._

It doesn't take long for him to answer.

_**Dude, I don't want to hear about your problems in the bedroom!**_

I roll my eyes and answer, awkwardly typing with my left hand.

_No, it's not that. Someone broke into her cafe._

_**Shit. Did you guys call the police yet?**_

_Not yet. She's in shock, I think. Blimey, Em, what do I do?_

_**Wait for me. I'll be right there.**_

I breathe a sigh of relief and turn to Bella.

"We should call the police," I tell her and she nods minutely. "Should I... should I call?"

"Alice did," she mutters.

We stand in silence until it's broken by a loud voice.

"What the hell happened?" Emmett booms and we both look up in surprise.

"Blimey, Emmett," I groan, rubbing my eyes with my fingertips.

"Sorry, but, shit," he says, slightly quieter. He crunches over to us and spots Bella, her eyes downcast and her expression sullen. He instantly goes into help mode. "What do you want us to do, Bella?"

"Um, start gathering up the broken tables, I guess," she mumbles, wiping at her eyes. "And the chairs. I'll just... take a look at the espresso machine."

She lets go of my hand and turns towards the machine. I start to amble over to Emmett, but he put his hands out, mouthing something at me that I can't understand and gesturing at Bella. I furrow my brow and give him a questioning look, glancing back at Bella's back. I look back to Emmett and his eyes are wide, his arms gesturing wildly.

_What?_ I mouth at him, holding my hands out, palms up.

His mouth opens wide in some word and his massive arms wrap around his own upper body. He squeezes himself and sways from side to side, a soft expression on his face.

My eyes squint in confusion and I start forward, holding my arms up.

Why my flatmate needs a hug is beyond me.

Emmett drops his hands in frustration and lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fucking hell," he mumbles, his eyes on the ceiling and his head shaking back and forth. He crosses his arms and gives Bella a pointed look before looking back at me.

"Oh!" I breathe, dropping my arms and going back to Bella. I look at Emmett for reassurance and he nods in encouragement.

"Bella?" I say. She turns quickly, her eyes full of tears—angry tears.

"Who the fuck is messing with me?" she demands, her hands slapping down to her sides. "Who the hell is getting their rocks off by ruining my life?"

"Uh, w-well, I d-d-don't know," I stutter, a little afraid of her anger.

"This shit is getting out of hand," she says, her voice dangerously low. "I mean really, bribing my cat? Smashing my laptop? Trashing my damn business, for fucks sake? Damn it!"

She drops her face into her hands, still breathing heavily. I turn slightly and widen my eyes at Emmett. He just shrugs, points at Bella and puts his arms out to hug an invisible person.

I nod once and step forward, raising my arms cautiously. The second I touch Bella's back, she leans into me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist.

"I don't know what's going on, Edward," she mumbles into my chest.

"I'm sorry, love," I say, rubbing my hand up and down her back. "But we'll figure this out, I promise. We'll close down for the day and Emmett and I will clean everything up."

"Oh no!" she says, pulling back and looking at me, her face horrorstruck. "We can't close down, not tonight!"

"Bella, I'm sure people will understand why-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"No, Edward," she sighs, looking embarrassed—something I had never seen before in the short time I've known her. "We weren't going to open for regular business tonight."

"Why not?" I ask, fascinated by how her cheeks are tinged pink.

"It's going to sound so stupid," she mumbles, looking down again. She sighs and continues, "We planned a huge fundraiser thing to get money for me to come see you."

"W-what?" I ask. This was _not _what I was expecting.

"I really wanted to come see you," she says, still not looking up. "But I knew I would never be able to save up enough money. So... Alice, her co-workers and I planned to have some bands and shit tonight to raise money."

I have no idea what to say. I stand there, looking down at her in amazement until she finally looks up.

"Stupid, right?" she says with a grimace.

"Far from it," I say with a laugh. "If I wasn't so daft, maybe I could have come up with it. Instead, I asked mum for the money to come here."

"Aw, you asked mummy?" she jokes, holding back a snicker.

"Yeah, I'm smooth like that," I mutter, feeling my own cheeks turn red.

Bella smiles and lifts her arms to put them around my neck. Raising up on her toes, she kisses me once, pulling back quickly as Emmett groans loudly.

"C'mon, guys," he says loudly, "no one wants to see that."

We laugh and, after giving me one last chaste kiss, Bella turns back to her machine. Emmett raises his eyebrows at me lewdly as I make my way back over to him, and I feel my cheeks get hot again.

"Shut up," I mumble at him, ignoring his snickering by gathering up the broken table legs strewn across the floor.

It takes a couple hours, but we manage to make the place look decent. I can't help but notice, though, that none of Bella's friends show up, despite her constant messaging. I'm gathering up supplies to clean off the writing on the window and walls when I hear three sets of feet walking in the door, all of them in heels.

"Holy shit!" the little one with black hair shouts. She's wearing a short black skirt and a tank top to match, but her heels are bright blue.

"That seems to be the consensus around here," Bella grumbles from her perch on the counter.

"Someone is definitely out to get you," the tall blonde says. She's wearing a charcoal gray pant suit with a pink blouse underneath. Her heels are pink, too, and clack loudly across the floor as she roams around.

The smallest one doesn't say anything, but instead removes her jean jacket and throws it over the nearest chair. She sits down and reaches into her bag for a pair of tennis shoes. She's dressed the most casually of the three; her black slacks and long-sleeved brown shirt look plain compared to her friends.

"Emmett, Edward," Bella says, gesturing to each person as she names them. "This is Nessie, Rosalie and Alice."

"Hey, boys," Alice says with a wink. Rosalie just nods, but I can see her eying Emmett as he attempts to avoid her gaze and nods back. "Sorry we're late. I was calling around for favors."

"What could you get?" Bella asks, looking eager.

"I got permission for an outdoor barbeque. The local butcher agreed to donate some burgers and the grocery store is giving us chips, sodas, and all the shit we could think of for the burgers."

"Geez, Al, how did you manage that?" Bella asks with wide eyes.

"I just got lucky," she shrugs, taking off her heels and tossing them down next to her purse. "The store accidentally ordered too much food and most of it is expiring in a couple of days, so they need to get rid of it. Oh, and I managed to talk to that officer—Paul LaHote? The one that was there for your break-in, and he pulled some strings to get you a last minute barbeque. Usually that kind of stuff takes weeks to arrange."

My ears perk up at the name of the officer, my stomach turning uncomfortably.

"Wow, nice guy," Bella murmurs, nodding her head. I feel my face burn and turn away.

I try to ignore my feelings of jealousy about the officer and focus my efforts on cleaning up. Rose and I go outside with the cleaning supplies while Nessie helps Bella take apart the coffee makers to assess the damage.

I was surprised to see that Rose was the only one to keep her heels on. Although, she did remove her jacket, her sleeveless blouse showing off her pale, toned arms. The added height of the shoes helped her reach the top of the large window and I couldn't help but notice the sliver of skin that was peeking out between her pants and shirt.

Apparently, Emmett noticed too. I caught him blatantly staring at the exposed skin and after a while, he came over to me.

"Hey, man, Bella needs you," he says to me, his eyes glued to Rosalie's bum.

I roll my eyes and go inside, knowing full well he was lying. When I spot Bella across the room with Nessie, she's hanging up her mobile.

"That was Jake," she says when I reach her. "He was busy taking care of divorce paperwork, but he's on his way."

"What would you like to do about tonight?" I ask her, reaching for her hand.

"Well, I'd still like to go through with it," she says, sighing sadly. "This time to help raise money for repairs."

"We never specified what the fundraiser was for, so we could always tell people your story about your break-ins," Nessie speaks up with a shrug. Bella smiles and puts her arm around the small girl.

"Ness, I'm so glad we have you around," she tells her and Nessie grins back.

We hear yet another someone come in the door and turn to see Jacob coming in, looking around sadly.

"Damn, Bella," he says, his eyes on the broken equipment. "This fucking sucks."

Just then, he looks up, his eyes locking on Nessie. She blushes and he grins slowly.

"Um, Nessie, you remember Jake," Bella says, looking at them with an amused expression on her face. "She can fill you in on what we've done so far. I'll just leave you two to, uh... talk."

Bella pulls me away with a giggle. Once out of ear-shot, I turn to her in confusion.

"What is going on with our mates?" I ask her in a low voice.

"What do you mean?" she asks; her forehead wrinkles as she looks around. "Who else?"

"My Emmett is showing interest in your Rose," I tell her with a smirk.

"Everyone likes looking at Rose," Bella says with a wave of her hand, but then she turns to see Rose and Emmett scrubbing a table together. Rose is constantly looking over at him with obvious attraction.

"See?" I say, laughing. Bella shakes her head and we get back to work.

By the early afternoon, the place is in good enough shape to start setting up. Some employees from the grocery store show up with food, as well as the butcher himself. Soon after, Officer LaHote arrives to 'keep an eye on things', as he says. I'm wary at first, but he rarely looks at Bella and instead patrols the area, so I slowly fall back into focusing on what I'm doing.

Rose informs us that her brother and his band hit some traffic on their way, so they'll be a bit late. Emmett sets up the grill, Rose by his side, and Jake and Nessie help arrange the food table. Bella finds some poster board in the office and makes up a sign, telling people what we're raising money for. Almost as soon as she tapes it to the front window, covering what's left of the faded swear words, people start to show up, instantly asking where to put their donations. I offer to carry around an old coffee carafe to fill with money and within the hour, it's nearly filled.

Alice runs the drawing and the small band shows up right on time. Almost half the people are gathered in front of them, dancing and enjoying themselves. I keep myself attached to Bella, not wanting to leave her side, though I can see that she's beyond happy.

"God, all these people," she says quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. "They all came to support me and I don't even know any of them. I even saw a few of them calling some friends to show up."

"Lots of people are willing to support a good cause," I tell her, squeezing my arm that's around her shoulders.

"Hey, guys," Alice comes bounding up to us, back in her heels. "I was thinking, Bella, that you should make a little speech after the band finishes. You know, let people know about what's been going on, your life, your cafe... you know, give them more incentive."

"Alice, I can't do that," Bella groans. "I would feel like I was fucking begging and that shit is not me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Alice grimaces, but then her face brightens. "But maybe Edward could say a few things."

"What?" I say, my voice coming out like a high-pitched squeak. I clear my throat and try again. "N-no, I can't do that. I'm not, uh, n-n-not good at speaking, you know in front of, um, you know, people. Strange people, that is..."

"Oh, come on, Brit Boy," Bella says, running her hand from my wrist up to my shoulder. I feel my body give a little shiver. "For me?"

"Uh, I, uh," I stutter, getting lost in her eyes, her tempting smile. I feel myself sigh in defeat. "I'll try. But no promises that I don't make a complete ninny out of myself."

"That's my boy," Bella says, pinching my cheek. I frown at her and turn toward the make-shift stage, squaring my shoulders just as I had before walking into the cafe today.

I feel Bella's hands on my shoulder blades, as she gives me a little push. I stumble a little but recover and walk up to where the band is bowing for the crowd. I step up to the microphone and face the group of people. My forehead starts to sweat a little as my eyes survey the crowd. When my gaze reaches Bella and her encouraging smile, I relax. I take a deep breath and push my glasses farther up.

"Uh, good evening, everyone," I say into the mic. "M-my name is, uh, Edward. I'm Bella's, well I'm her boyfriend. Bella is the, uh, owner of Back to the Grind and she really appreciates your, uh, your s-s-support."

I pause and take a deep breath, closing my eyes. With my view of the crowd cut off, I'm able to think clearly and imagine that it's just me and Bella here, just the two of us, talking, like normal.

"I've only known Bella for two short weeks," I say, my voice coming out much stronger than I was expecting. "It was a chance encounter, and from the beginning, I knew a bloke like me didn't deserve someone as fantastic as Bella. She truly is an inspiration and, if I didn't already own my own business back home, she would truly be my role model to start one."

I open my eyes slowly and see that everyone is looking at me with an admiring look in their eyes. A few glance back at Bella, who drops her eyes and gives a small wave. When she looks up again, she's smiling and shaking her head.

"Really, Bella, you're amazing," I say honestly. "Blimey, I don't know what I would do without you. You are... an amazing woman. It's no wonder I fell in love with you."

I freeze, never meaning for those words to come out. I see Bella's eyes widen, Alice's mouth drop open in shock. Emmett is standing nearby, his hand resting on Rose's back and he looks just as taken aback as everyone else. The crowd doesn't seem to notice until I continue to stand there in silence, my mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

Emmett, ever the perfect mate, sees my distress and starts clapping, everyone else joins in. Alice and Rose bring their hands together slowly, looking at Bella's face in concern.

My eyes are still trained on her when I feel a large hand grab my arm and pull me away from the mic. Alice's voice trills through the speakers, but I can't tell what she's saying. My ears are ringing and everything around me, but Bella, is blurry. My glasses slip down my nose as the sweat continues to bead down my skin and I push them up with shaking hands.

"Talk, I'll keep everyone busy," Emmett murmurs, shoving me toward her and ushering people away from where we're standing.

"Bella, I-I-I..." I mumble, my heart beating so fast that it hurts.

Bella still stares up at me, an unfathomable expression on her face. Is she surprised? Upset? Feels the same way?

Bloody hell, I have no fucking clue.

"Edward?' she whispers, her lips barely moving.

"Y-yes?" I ask.

"What did you just say up there?" she breathes, her brow furrowing.

"Um..."

* * *

**A/N: Smooth move, Brit Boy. What do you think Bella is thinking? Do you think she loves him back? Hmm... I'm curious to hear your ideas!**


	16. Chapter 16: Saturday, Day Fifteen--BPOV

**A/N: Um... not much to say, but I did spend some time putting a pink streak in my hair. It's pretty cool, if I do say so myself. Well, without further babbling, let's see what Bella had to say...**

* * *

Chapter 16: Saturday, Day Fifteen- BPOV

"Edward?"

"Y-yes?"

"What did you just say up there?"

"Um..."

Edward stands there, twiddling his fingers; his eyes were darting everywhere but at me.

"Edward," I say a little louder and his eyes snap to mine. I can see his chest heaving quickly, so I soften my tone; I don't want him having a panic attack. "Please, tell me what you said."

"I-I didn't mean to, it just slipped out," he says, the words pouring out at top speed. "I mean, it wasn't something that I was thinking about, w-well, I w-w-was thinking about it, recently, that is, but not just now, I m-mean not right during that speech. I was just so nervous, still am, actually, um, b-but, I was just trying to, I-I-I..."

He keeps stuttering along, so I place my hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide and beseeching; he looks fucking terrified.

"Did you say that you love me?" I asked quietly, speaking each word with care. He nods slowly, and I smile. "We've only known each other two weeks, you know?"

He nods again against my hand, his expression changing from worried to puzzled.

"Well that's interesting," I say slowly, lowering my hand.

"W-what is?" he asks hesitantly.

"That you love me," I shrug.

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice cracking slightly. "Because I don't have to, if that's bad. I can shut up and never say it again. I can wait—maybe it's that whole, I dunno, new thing. You're my first real g-girlfriend, first real mate that I can talk to, really, so-"

"Shut up," I tell him. "You can say it anytime you fucking want."

"I can?" he squeaks, his eyes wide.

"Hell yeah," I laugh. "Because I love you too, you idiot."

The smile that breaks across his face is full of so many emotions, happiness and relief prominent among them. He hesitates for a moment, as though afraid I'll change my mind, before wrapping his arms around me, lifting my feet off the ground. We both laugh, sounding really damn cheesy, but I'm too happy to care.

"Aw, isn't that cute."

I pull back from Edward to see Jacob looking at us, a fake sappy look on his face and his hand over his heart. He wipes away an invisible tear and sniffles.

"Damn, Jake, you really know how to ruin the moment," I laugh, shaking my head.

"B-but it's just so... so..." Jacob says, breaking off and putting his head in his hands and letting out a loud, fake cry. "Beautiful!"

"Oh, geez," I mumble, rolling my eyes. Edward looks at me quizzically so I explain. "He's done this before, just not in a long time. I went through this faze in the seventh grade, where I got a crush on a different guy every week. And after a while, Jake started giving me such a hard time about it, that I realized how stupid I was."

"Ah, right," Edward mumbles, glancing sideways at a still sobbing Jacob. After a moment, though, his pretend cries turn into laughter.

"Sorry, guys," he says, lowering his hands. "You really are cute together. I'm glad to see Bella finally happy with someone."

I feel my face blush and look down. Edward doesn't say anything, but I can feel his arms tighten around my waist. Suddenly, he looks up, his grip slackening as he looks around.

"What's that?" Edward asks.

"What's what?" I ask, glancing in the direction he's looking.

And then I hear it.

_Click. Click. Click. Click._

"Hold on a mo'," Edward says, taking a step in the direction of the noise. "Did you ask someone to take photos tonight?"

"What?" I cry, following his gaze.

About twenty feet away, I see a figure in black with a camera up to their face. When I catch sight of them, they turn and bolt, knocking into a few people in their haste to get away.

Mother fucker.

"Oh, no you don't," I growl under my breath and take off after them.

"Bella, wait!" Edward yells, and I can hear his feet slapping against the ground as he chases after me.

I ignore all the confused looks as I barrel through the crowds. I'm not necessarily the fastest runner, but I soon catch up to the person in black, adrenaline pumping through my body and giving me what feels like super-human speed. The person turns and looks at me; their face is too shrouded by their hood for me to see their face, but I'm pretty sure I hear them give a terrified gasp.

Damn right.

Behind me, Edward grunts as he pushes himself after me. I don't slow down as I turn the corner, even when I slip a little on some gravel. The person isn't as lucky, and trips over a root pushing up a section of the sidewalk.

I feel a thrill of triumph, thinking I may catch them, but they recover quickly and scramble to their feet again.

"Fuck, shit, damn it!" I pant.

Just then, I notice there's another set of feet chasing after me. I want to turn and see who it is, but there's no way in Hell I'm going to let this asshole out of my sight.

"Bella!" Nessie calls after me, and, before I know it, she's beside me, shoving keys into my hands.

"Thanks, Ness!" I shout as she slows to a stop.

"Red BMW! Top down!" she yells. "It's Rose's!"

I nod to myself as the car comes into view, with a familiar black car parked right in front of it. The passenger door is thrown open, and the person in black leaps into it.

The car peels out, tires screeching against the concrete, and I do something that I've always wanted to do.

I come skidding to a halt next to Rosalie's car and in one swift movement, I hoist myself over the driver's side door and into the seat, looking only slightly awkward when my knee rams into the steering wheel.

"Get in!" I yell at Edward when he comes panting to a halt next to the car.

He gets in just as I had—he, too, not looking quite as graceful as the movie stars doing the same move—and I jam the key into the ignition.

The car rumbles on and I throw it into gear, stomping on the gas before I lose sight of the black car.

"Seatbelt, love," Edward says, still trying to catch his breath.

"No time," I say breathlessly, my eyes locked on my pursuit.

Edward sighs heavily, reaches across me and pulls the seatbelt across my lap. He clicks it into place and sits back in his seat.

"What do you plan to do when you catch them up?" he asks, grabbing onto the door handle as I turn sharply around a corner.

"No fucking idea," I say, glancing down at the speedometer. I'm going over forty now and the limit is thirty. "Shit, keep an eye out for cops."

"Let's just think for a mo'," Edward argues, though I do see him in my peripheral twisting in his seat to look down the passing streets.

"No, I don't want to think," I say, pressing the gas pedal down a little farther. "I want to find this shit-head and beat their ass. Simple as that."

"How about we just find out who they are?" he asks desperately as I skid around another corner, nearly running the car up the curb.

I sigh and turn to look at him.

He looks like he's about to shit his pants.

My poor little shy Brit...

"Okay," I say quietly, and then I see the car turn into a dead-end street. "Ha!"

I pass the street at full speed, making sure to keep my eyes forward.

"What are you doing?" Edward asks in a panicked voice.

"I have an idea," I say gleefully, turning down the next street—one that also has no outlet—and flip a bitch when I reach the end. I turn back towards the street the car when down and slam on the breaks when I reach the opening; Edward throws his hands out to brace himself against the dashboard. I mumble an apology and then start inching the car forward, leaning over the steering wheel to try to see the people in the car.

I stop when I get a decent view, the front of the car still hidden behind a tree. We sit and wait, and I can't help but feel antsy.

"Where the fuck are they?" I whisper, craning my neck over the dash.

"I'm confused," Edward says, just as quietly.

"I didn't want them to see me follow them down the street," I explain patiently. "They were stupid enough that they led me right in there, but maybe they weren't expecting me to keep up with them."

"Right," he mutters, looking down the street as well.

After nearly twenty minutes of waiting, the two people come out of the car. I sit up excitedly, hoping I'll be able to see their faces.

I watch the two people look around nervously, checking each car and house to see if we could possibly be waiting in the shadows. Once assured, the two come together near the trunk of the car and start talking. They're both about the same height, but one of them is slightly larger than the other, though they're both thin. If I had to guess, the thicker one is probably a guy.

"Can you tell what they look like?" I ask Edward quietly.

"Well, I think one of them is a bloke," he says, just as the thinner one lowers her hood. "Yeah, that one is a definitely not a bloke. She has shiny black hair."

"Seriously?" I ask in disbelief, recognizing the chick.

It couldn't be. Please tell me it's not...

"I'm not putting you on, Bella," Edward says, turning to me in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Hold up," I say, taking my cell phone out of my pocket with shaking fingers.

I have a few missed calls and messages that I had ignored while I was driving and I dismiss them again. I pull up my contact list and scroll through until I find the one I want.

"Give me your phone," I say, holding my hand out.

"My mobile?" Edward asks.

"Yes, Brit, your mobile," I say a little impatiently, curling my fingers a few times. "Hand it over."

Edward fumbles for his pocket and pulls out his cell. It's obviously new, the original plastic protector still on the screen. He puts it in my hand cautiously; I press the power button to light up the screen. I smile when I see he already changed the background picture to a candid shot he took of me during one of our Skype sessions.

I glance sideways at him, and he blushes furiously, playing with his fingers. I shake my head and take a deep breath. Looking at my contact, I type it into Edward's phone and cross my fingers in my lap.

It rings a few times and Edward looks around as a ringing sound echos down the street. We see the two people looking at each other and then the girl pulls out a phone from her pocket.

"Oh, no," I mumble. "No, no, shit, no..."

"Bella what..." Edward starts to ask, but when the person picks up, I put the phone on speaker.

"Hello?" the voice asks, sounding confused.

"Hello, ma'am, I was looking for a Ms. Leah Black?" I say with a fake southern accent. "I'm calling to ask if you would like to participate in a survey. Is this she?"

"Yes, it is, but I'm not interested," she says, and I can hear both her voice over the receiver and down the street.

"Thank you, ma'am, have a pleasant evening," I say and hang up.

"Bella?" Edward says quietly, placing a hand on my arm.

"Fucking bitch!" I say, opening the door and stepping out.

"Wait! Bella!" Edward calls but I'm already striding down the street towards Leah and the asshole she's with.

"I'm gonna kill her," I growl, my teeth clenched together. "I'm going to fucking kill them both, whoever that fucker is she's with!"

I'm barely ten steps from the car when Edward is behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the sidewalk. He spins me around and darts behind the tree hiding the car, his back to the rough bark.

"What the hell, Edward?" I demand, struggling against his grip. "Let me go!"

"Shhh, no listen," he says urgently, lowering his voice. "Let's sneak around back and see if we can hear something, all right? We can't just go barging up to her, she'll think you've gone mad."

"But I _am_ mad!" I tell him, talking in a furious whisper.

"No, I mean mad as in, you know, crazy," he says.

I let out a deep sigh and stop fighting him. He turns me around and looks down at me.

"So, basically, you want to spy on them?" I ask playfully, narrowing my eyes. He shrugs sheepishly and I chuckle. "All right, let's go Brit."

I take Edward's hand and peek around the corner. Leah and her friend are still standing outside, leaning against the car, side by side. I crouch down, Edward copying my position, and dart across the sidewalk.

We're only four houses down, one of which is for sale. I drag Edward to the front door of the closest one and squat down behind the bushes there. I look through the leaves and see that the two of them are now headed toward the front door of the house they're parked in front of.

"Shit, let's move!"

Still bending low, we race across the lawn. Luckily, the house next door to the one Leah went into is the one for sale, meaning we won't look like trespassers, or at least not much, so once we manage to reach it, we head toward the side gate that leads into the back yard. With his long reach, Edward puts his arm over the top and unlatches it. Once inside, we run to the gate on the other side and stop to catch our breath.

"This is fun," I say, smiling up at him. He gives me a weird look. "What?"

"You fascinate me," he says, grinning also. "You manage to surprise me every day."

I roll my eyes and unlatch the gate. Opening it an inch, I peer out and see the door closing behind Leah. I'm about to head out when I hear a scraping sound. I pull my head back in just in time. The sound had been Leah opening a window on the side of the house.

"What are you doing?" the male voice asks.

"If she figures out what house we're in, I want to be able to hear her coming," Leah explains; I look with one eye around the gate and see her twitching the curtains closed.

"Don't you think she'll sneak up to the house?" the guy says with a laugh that sounds vaguely familiar. "I mean, she wouldn't be stupid enough to just burst in, would she?"

"Wouldn't put it past her," Leah smirks. "Either way, we'll be able to hear her coming from a mile away. She's as clumsy as an ox."

I feel my face grow hot and Edward places his hand on my shoulder, attempting to calm me. It works only slightly; I can still see red.

Some friend I've got in there.

"Good point," the guy says. I can hear his heavy footsteps on the wood floor inside and strain my ears to hear more. "I'm sure we've got time, though."

It's silent for a moment and then I hear Leah giggle.

"Not now, Mike," she laughs. "Let's make sure we're in the clear first."

"You know I can be quick," Mike murmurs. "And quiet. We'll still be able to hear her coming."

"Hmm, it's true that Jake never did find out," Leah purrs and then giggles again.

"Wait, do you think they know it was us that trashed the place?" Mike asks suddenly.

"No, we're supposed to be good friends, remember?" Leah says with what I can only call an evil laugh.

"Holy shit," I whisper, putting a hand to my mouth.

"Wait, Leah?" Edward says quietly. "As in-"

"Jake's almost ex-wife," I finish for him, feeling my chest tighten with anger. "But what place did she trash? Shit, and she was cheating on Jake. With Mike?"

"Mike?" Edward chuckles. "That nitwit?"

My fury soon turns to amusement.

"Nitwit? Yeah, that's the perfect description," I say, attempting to stifle my laughter, so it doesn't carry. "It just doesn't make sense. Mike? That fucking moron?"

I double over in silent laughter, clutching my stomach.

Geez, what was this chick doing with herself? She gave up an amazing guy like Jake for...

"Oh man," I gasp, straightening up and meeting Edward's curious gaze. "I just don't get it."

"How much coffee have you had today?" he questions, furrowing his brow.

"Um, only that one cup this morning with you," I say, cocking my head to the side. "Why?"

"I think you're right," he says seriously, nodding. "You need coffee to survive. You're getting a little loopy."

"Loopy?" I ask with a snort. I tilt my head from side to side and say in a sing-song voice, "Loony, loopy Bella, loony loopy Bella."

Oh God, I sound totally insane. I stop singing and look up at Edward's face; he looks a little scared.

"Maybe something a little stronger than coffee," I say, closing the gate, as the activity in the house starts to sound a bit more, well, disgusting.

"It was a long day," Edward sighs, taking my hand and leading me across the yard.

"Yeah, it was," I agree. "Started with some shit and ended with the 'L' word."

I glance sideways at him to see him run his fingers through his hair nervously and grimacing.

"Yeah, about that," he says, shoving his hand into his pocket. "I'm terribly sorry if I was out of line. It was completely the wrong place to do that. I should have waited until we were alone, oh bugger, I'm so stupid-"

"Hey, Brit?" I interrupt and he looks at me expectantly. "I love you."

He gives me a glorious smile and squeezes my hand.

"I love you too, Coffee Girl," he says, leaning down and giving me a quick kiss.

We manage to make it back to the cafe without getting caught. As I pull back into Rosalie's parking spot, I see her, Emmett, Alice, Jake and Nessie waiting at the curb. I take a deep breath, turn the car off and open the door to get out like a normal person.

"What, you didn't want to slide across the hood?" Rosalie smirks, holding out her hands for her keys.

"Would you mind?" I ask, pulling the keys back to myself. Rose rolls her eyes and snatches the keys out of my hand. "By the way, your car does fucking amazing in a chase."

"Oh, I know it," Rose says so quietly that I almost don't hear her, as she walks to the car to inspect it for scratches.

I know I should feel insulted, but I really don't blame her. She barely knows me.

Plus, I'm me. I wouldn't blame anyone for checking.

"So, what happened?" Alice demands in a squeaky voice, bouncing on her toes. "Nessie says she saw you running and chased after you with the keys. Did you catch them? Who was it? Do we know them? Come on, come on! Tell us!"

"Whoa, Alice, give me a chance!" I laugh. Alice bites her lip and waits. I take a deep breath and look warily at Edward, who nods encouragingly. "Well, we followed them down to a house and then sneaked around to listen in through the window."

I pause and look up at the expectant faces of my friends, barely able to meet Jake's curious eyes.

"And?" Nessie prompts. "Did you recognize them?"

"Yeah," I mumble, looking down at my hands clasped in front of me. Edward reaches over and separates them, holding one tightly in his own.

"What's wrong?" Rose asks, her tone actually soft.

"It was Mike," I say to my feet, pausing again. "And Leah."

Everyone around me is absolutely silent. I look up slowly and see four pairs of wide eyes staring back at me. Emmett is looking around, obviously confused. I look to Jake and can't decipher his expression, so I decide not to tell them what else we found out.

"But, why were they taking pictures?" Jake asks, his thick brows low over his confused eyes.

"Dunno," I shrug, honestly.

"I'm lost," Emmett says, sounding annoyed. "Who are Leah and Mike?"

"I'll explain later," Rosalie whispers to him.

"And they said something about trashing the place," I tell them.

"Which place?" Alice asks and I shrug.

We stand in contemplative silence which Alice eventually breaks.

"Things will be finishing soon," she says, not sounding like her usual, peppy self. "Nessie, we still have time for you to play a few more songs, if you'd like."

"Sure," she says, placing her hand lightly on Jake's elbow and steering him back toward the cafe. He follows in a kind of stupor.

Everyone else heads back, but Edward and I stay behind. I wait for everyone else to leave before turning to Edward in a panic.

"Oh God, do I have to tell him?" I beg, tugging on his hand. "Please, tell me I don't have to tell him. He's already upset enough as it is, but to put this shit on him, he's going to have a fucking aneurism. Shit, what am I going to do?"

"For one thing, calm down, love," he says with a laugh. "Wow, its nice to see someone else having a panic attack besides me."

I punch him playfully on the arm and he grabs the spot, wincing.

"Do I have to tell him?" I ask in a calmer voice.

"Not straight away," Edward reassures me. "Come on, let's get back before anyone wonders where we got to."

My friends and I are silent throughout Nessie's performance, all of us obviously still thinking about what Edward and I found out. I'm not even paying attention as I wave good-bye and shake hands with people as they leave the party. Edward keeps some kind of physical contact with me the rest of the night, whether it's a hand on my shoulder or linking a finger with one of mine. Needless to say, I welcome the time we'll all have together after we finish cleaning up.

I tell everyone about what Edward and I heard through the window, editing only slightly. Afterward, the seven of us lounge in the few intact chairs inside the cafe, sipping on the beer that Jacob picked up at some point during the evening. Even though I'm lost in my thoughts, I can't help but notice how Nessie leans against Jake, her chair right next to his and how Emmett has his arm draped over Rosalie's shoulder.

"Leah and Mike," Jake says after a while, breaking the quiet.

"Yup," I say, nodding my head once.

"Why?" he asks.

"No fucking clue," I tell him.

"You didn't hear anything about their plans?" Alice asks me.

"No, just, uh, that they hoped I wasn't sneaking up on them," I say guardedly, looking everywhere, but at Jake.

We lapse back into silence, the sound of swallowing and bottles clunking on the table the only noises in the room. I glance up at the clock every once in a while, watching as the hours tick by.

Midnight comes and goes and we're still all sitting there, the beer long gone and our thoughts tangled as we try to figure out what the hell is going on.

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun dun! Did anyone suspect either Leah or Mike? I think a lot of you thought Mike... but no one guessed both together! What do you think? **


End file.
